The Bitter End
by Takiko Kyuuketsuki
Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can’t deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game. Slash - Gibbs/DiNozzo - Tibbs - DiNozzo/Gibbs - MM - yaoi
1. Chapter 1

Title: Bitter End 01

Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking

Fandom: NCIS

Category: Slash

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann

Rating: PG for now (will be NC-17 later on)

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time

Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can't deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game.

Spoilers: Every season from season 1. Starts at 5x07 though.

Warnings: Homophobia

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. I used lines of 'Requiem' in this chapter. Be warned.

Thanks to Joey for betaing this fic.

'Don't do this to me, boss…'

Never in his life had Anthony DiNozzo been so terrified. The journey up from the sunken car with the girl had taken forever. He had thought his boss would be following him. When he did not hear Gibbs surface, Tony wasted no time and dived after him.

When he saw the empty eyes unfocused in the water, his heart skipped a beat. He had to get him out. He had to.

Yet, the wheel would not budge. He tried hard to resist the panic that was overwhelming him. Get him out. Get him safe.

Get him safe.

But his boss had stopped breathing. His heart had stopped beating. Tony had started the heart massage, wishing his own heart would not beat so fast and Gibbs' much faster. A beat. A little beat. That was all he needed.

'Come on, boss, don't do this to me…'

He was angry too. He had shot the bastards – but it was not enough. He would kick their arses to hell and back if he only could. But now, just now, he had to concentrate.

Gibbs was still not breathing.

'Don't make me kiss you, boss…'

Desperate.

_Not now. Not like this…_

Dead…

He fought down another panic attack as he blew into Gibbs' mouth again. He felt on the verge of crying.

'Come on, boss! Come on!!'

How could he do this to him? It was Gibbs who had ordered him to survive Y. Pestis. And he had. Obediently. And now the Marine would die because a little too much water had entered his lungs?

The hell. He could not. He could not give up. Marines never gave up. They did not surrender. It was rule #1, after all, wasn't it?

Tony checked his breathing once more, not even realizing how much affection he displayed as he casually stroked Gibbs's hair.

'Oh boss, come on…' he muttered.

Then he remembered the young woman. Gibbs would not want her to die.

He was scared. He was alone.

If he could just focus on his boss, then perhaps…

But there was no one to help him – them. He hesitated. He _had_ the gall to hesitate. Even as he knelt next to her, he looked back to watch his boss.

He could not bear to lose him. Not this once. Never. He knew he was being ridiculous. He knew he was probably confused because he had broken up with Jeanne not so long ago.

But he knew his feelings for Gibbs would never disappear. God knew how hard he had tried. What he had first thought was hero worship or some sort of an affection transference from his father who did not care to the man he cared about and seeked to please, feelings that he could suppress relatively easily or at least pass for something usual given his state of mind–

Well.

As far as he knew, they both were womanizers, for God's sake. Gibbs was, anyway. Tony… Well, he had made out with a guy once or twice before – and it had been exciting – but he was not romantically involved with them. And never pushed any further. He had never thought it was worth the risk to be exposed. The police did not take too kindly to homosexuals, especially when they looked like the perfect jock, the epitome of virility. But Gibbs… There was something about Gibbs that made him crave for his touch, made him crave for a taste of his lips… Had always been…

He wondered if his boss had ever noticed the glances he stole sometimes, his eyes following Gibbs and Sheppard as they stepped together into the elevator, before turning back hastily to the book he was reading or the sketch he was drawing. He knew that if the investigator had caught too many of those particular gazes, even if they lasted only a few seconds, he would have figured everything out. Everything. No more running for him. No more possible escape. He would have to resign – pure and simple.

Yet he could not help himself. He just envied Jen, because Gibbs would never walk at _his_ side, his hand lightly touching his arm. How he wished not to be in need of a crutch for finding an excuse to lean against the Marine…

He should not feel that way. He should not be in love with his boss. He should not love him 'that way' at all. It was as dangerous as it was painful. And yet, as he looked back, and saw his employer's eyes staring up into the sky, he thought his heart would tear up again.

He was good at denial. And he had denied himself even the tiniest things as far as Gibbs was concerned. Not to smile too brightly at him. Not to touch him too often or too long. Not to let his finger linger as it brushed against Gibbs as he handed a report to him. Not to hug him for too long when both of them needed it. He knew anything he tried was bound to fail anyway. And his guts just told him that the object of his desire had a thing for Mann. So he contented himself with what he had – namely seeing him at work, and sometimes on the weekends when he got the chance.

Besides, Gibbs' rules would forbid any kind of relationship between them. Tony smiled bitterly at that: who was he kidding? What did it change? It was too late for him, anyway.

He breathed more air into the girl's mouth before returning to Gibbs, desperate to feel a pulse. He could hear sirens in the distance – but they would not be here in time. They should have been here already.

'Don't die on me, boss… Just don't… You can't die on me… I won't let you…'

He knew it sounded petulant – but he didn't care.

'COME ON, now!'

When Director Sheppard told him about his little assignment with Jeanne, he had been disgusted at doing it behind his mentor's back. He had been disgusted by many things, actually. That a woman could suggest such a scheme. That a woman ordered him to play with another's woman's feelings in order to achieve her own little vendetta. That she would – basically – whore him out for that purpose. Tony had never been an angel. Fucking any woman who crossed his path was as good a hobby as any other. And even he admitted that his relationships…

Well…

Could he even call them relationships?

Still, as much as he liked undercover missions – despite always ending up hitting on common murderers – he did not think it right to be ordered to do such a thing to the girl. Even if they did get to the father that way.

Nearly getting him killed in the process. But it didn't matter.

For, as he had realized he was beginning to fall for her, he had had the eerie feeling that he was cheating.

On Gibbs.

And though his relationship with the Frog's daughter had been but an illusion, he had clung to it, to his feelings, because he had known there could never be anything between him and his boss… and that he had to let go. Jeanne was a wonderful woman, after all. And she had loved him. And he… he had been very fond of her. He _had_ loved her in his own way. Deeply… Just…

'I beg you… If you leave me again I…'

Whenever Gibbs was shot, he felt the bullet tear through his own flesh. When Gibbs was hurt in an explosion, he thought his heart stopped beating. When Gibbs woke up with no memory whatsoever, he was completely at a loss. He would have given anything – _anything_ – to make him right again. What should he have done? Why couldn't Gibbs remember him? He should, shouldn't

he? After all they had shared together? Did he mean so little to Gibbs? Why was it Ziva who helped him remember?

Ay, _there_ was the rub…

And even though he had known Gibbs would be back some day, why had he let him just walk away?? Granted, he had been way too stunned to react in any way at all, at the time. Still… It had hurt so much to see him walk away, just like that. As if they never meant anything to Gibbs. As if _he_ was nothing to Gibbs.

He knew why Gibbs had done it. He understood. But he would have liked to receive a little more than what he had got when Gibbs fled.

Than what he had got…

What had he got? Nothing. A position as the team's leader that he had had to surrender at his boss's return. Of course he had been angry. Angry because he had been left alone to deal with all the team, just like that. Angry because he had not heard from Gibbs all that time. Angry because killers on the loose did not take sabbatical, and someone had to do the job. So he could not run after Gibbs and ask him to – just… stay…

Most of all he was angry at himself because he had not even tried to make him stay.

He _could_ have made a call, but he had been torn between his responsibilities as a team leader, his job as a field agent, his work undercover... When he came back home, he was too tired to contact his boss. What would he have told him anyway? Nothing to gloat about. That he was unhappy? That he was on edge 24/7?

That he wanted him back in Washington because he could not bear to spend more time without him?

That it was tearing him apart?

Every time he came home, he checked his empty mailbox and unblinking answering-machine – nothing.

And that had been the most difficult thing of all.

He knew he had not fucked up too much, as a team leader. He was different from Gibbs… Yet even in his absence, he had wanted to live up to his expectations. He really could have tried to write… but he spent too much time at the office for that. And with Jenny whoring him out… and…

Gibbs did not even have a clue…

He never would stomach it…

And then Gibbs had waltzed back into their lives, taking everything he had tried so hard to secure away from him, as if things had never changed. Moving his stuff to his old desk. No word to explain that he was back. No apology for his undeserved demotion – as undeserved, perhaps, as had been his promotion. And that was it?

Who was he trying to fool? The team had moved on. McGee had made tremendous progress. He had been overwhelmed to have Gibbs back, in a way. With very different emotions. A rush of love and elation that the man he had once admired so much was back. And disappointment so great that he could not even acknowledge the work that they had accomplished in his absence. As

if he had come back from a prolonged vacation. But that had not been what had happened. In theory, Gibbs was just – _gone_. And at some point, he had feared he would end up just like his father – drown himself in liquor whenever he got the chance – because it had been so hard to see him leave…

And if Gibbs had made amends with Ducky, didn't he deserve some sort of an apology too? He had let him think he had his back always, and yet he had left him bereft of his presence, one day, just like that. Left him naked and unarmed to fight against devious terrorists, and five people to protect with his life.

All alone.

'Please, please don't die…'

His voice was barely above a whisper. He checked on Gibbs's breathing once more, desperate to feel on his cheek the thinnest stroke of air coming from that mouth. Desperate to see him smirk again. To feel his hands whacking him on the head…

'Wait for me, boss… Just…'

He stifled a sob and went back to the girl.

And now he thought he had been stupid. He should have risked it all. So many times already one of them had been about to die… Gibbs was not idiotic enough to send him away if he had told him… he needed him on his team. He was experienced. And next to Gibbs, he was the one who could trust his guts the most – even though it led him into impossible situations – and the most experienced on the field. His hunches on suspects had often outsmarted both the murderers and their profiles. And even though he could have died countless times because he had too much trust in human nature, he excelled at undercover work. The team could not function as well without any one of them. Tony and Gibbs were both essential to the team, as much as McGee and Kate, then Ziva were, along with Abby, Ducky and Palmer.

Tony could have just told him and assured him he would never act on his feelings, and it would have been just fine. Just a transfer of burdens. From his shoulders onto Gibbs's. But a shared burden.

And now he would never know.

How many times the voice of wisdom, which sounded suspiciously like Ducky's, had told him: 'Do it. Do it, Anthony. Tell him.' 'Tell him what?' 'Tell him what you want him to know…'

He vehemently shook his head, before blowing more air into the girl's mouth.

Where were they already? They had to help them. They had to. He could not afford to lose Gibbs. Not after everything that happened. Not now…

He was switching back to his beloved boss. Tony knew he was crying but he did not even bother to hide that fact. He was too preoccupied with the task of reviving Gibbs, all too aware it was taking too long; a new surge of panic overwhelmed him. He started shouting again.

'COME ON, COME ON BOSS! COME ON, NOW! DON'T DO THIS TO ME!'

He blew more air into Gibb's mouth, not liking at all how hysterical his voice had sounded just now. Not a moment to lose. The ex-Marine had not coughed yet and if he didn't…

And then, just then, a miracle. He pulled up just in time to see Gibbs cough, and, resting his hands on him, frantically, stroking his hair, shivering, helping him turn just so that all the water he had swallowed ended up on the wooden boards. With a sob, he breathed a sigh of relief. He rubbed softly the back of his boss, his cheek, trembling a little and smiling like a fool, the corners of his mouth twitching nervously. 'You're back… You're back, boss. Thank God you're back…', he kept repeating.

Gibbs glanced at him, before looking for Maddie, and DiNozzo got up.

'Right. Be right back, boss…'

He tried to ignore the stammering of his heart, his emotions in a twirl because of the pang of jealousy he felt at seeing Gibbs reach out for the girl like he did.

And he needed to hear his voice. So very badly.

When the girl came back to her senses, he checked on her once more, heaving, consciously ignoring the silent conversation she was holding with her boss, before he sat back, trying so hard not to interfere, trying to calm down his raging heartbeat, trying not to grab Gibbs's shirt and hit him in the head and order him to stop doing whatever he was doing to him and nearly die all the time. Stop almost dying, stop scaring him like that, and stop making him feel like kissing him, nice and deep, till they both died of asphyxia… Stop making him love him when he could not.

He sighed and looked up into the sky, trying to regain his own breath. He knew his lungs did not like to be pushed that way. The stress did not help. God if he only could…

'Tony…'

Gibbs was still looking at the girl, holding her hand, but his whisper made the younger agent scramble to his hands and knees to get to him as quickly as he could.

'Yeah, boss? You alright?'

The older agent, broke the silent exchange he was having with Maddie and offered him the most beautiful smile Tony had ever witnessed on the Marine's lips. He faltered and looked away, knowing full well he would break if he met Gibbs's gaze just now. He could deal with his affectionate sarcasm. But not with this.

He tried not to shiver when Jethro reached up with his free hand to pet the back of his head, and then when his hand descended on his cheek to stroke it gently – almost reverently. Better than a 'good job'. He could not see the way he was looking at him, but Tony felt his gaze on him, surprisingly warm despite the icy colour of his eyes.

'Boss I…'

'Tony… Look at me…' he rasped.

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, shaking under his boss's caress. He was lost. He took a deep breath and looked into Gibbs's eyes, faltering at the intensity of the emotions he perceived in that gaze.

'Thank you…'

The young man winced. Gibbs had said thank you. But he wanted so much more… So much he could never have…

Tyres screeched not so far away, sirens howling, and cars came to a halt. McGee and Ziva ran to his side in an instant, Ducky and Palmer on their heels. Gibbs' hand had left his cheek, his neck, and Tony felt the cold once more.

'Oh my God, are they alright?' shouted Ziva, checking on the girl's pulse.

'Well, if I had let them die, Gibbs would have kicked my arse…'

He sounded terrible, but he could not care less. He forced a smile.

'Wouldn't you, boss?'

Gibbs smiled at him – _smiled_ at him! – a true, a powerful smile, full of meanings, full of feelings, as if Gibbs was conveying in that simple smile all the tenderness and longing and respect and gratefulness he felt for the younger agent. But Tony knew he just saw what he wanted to see. Gibbs tried to talk, but the paramedics were here and hushed him before he could utter a word.

Gibbs's eyes locked with his as he was hoisted onto a stretcher and held his gaze until he was taken away.

Tony could feel McGee's speculative gaze on him. When he knew for sure Tony did not want to talk just now, he patted his arms, stood up, and took Ziva by the arm, taking her away, even though she protested – after all, Tony was still kneeling on those boards, refusing the paramedics' help, and showing no intention whatsoever to get up and follow them.

Ducky was lagging behind, looking at Tony with concern.

'Are you feeling alright?'

Tony looked up abruptly, eyes red and swollen; fortunately, he was not crying anymore.

'I… We've nearly lost him, Ducky…' he said, his voice nearly too low to hear.

'Yes. It was close. It might have seemed like hours to you, but it was only minutes. You did very well, Anthony. Jethro will be proud of you, once again. Even if he never shows it.'

'Not well enough… I did not do well enough… If I'd been faster… If I'd… He'd never…'

'He won't die on you like that, my boy. Not if he can help it.'

Tony looked at him cryptically. His ears were buzzing. He was feeling dizzy.

The ambulances had pulled away already, and he was alone with Ducky. And yet…

He was cold. So cold. He had always been colder since the plague hit him… But down there… Down in the water… Seeing Gibbs like that…

It was as if hell had frozen over as well…

'He won't leave you alone now he's asked you to live… Remember?'

But he already had, hadn't he? Left him alone. He had left him alone when he had fled to Mexico that day. He had come back, for sure. But it had never been the same. And now… Now perhaps he never would…

'Come on, son…' Ducky said gently. 'Let me help you up…'

Tony didn't think leaving the position he was in was such a good idea.

'Wait… Ducky… I think I…'

The world was spinning. If he had lost Jethro… he would have lost everything…

Darkness was almost welcome as it engulfed him.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Bitter End 02

Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking

Fandom: NCIS

Category: Slash

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann

Rating: PG for now (will be NC-17 later on)

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time

Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can't deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game.

Spoilers: Every season from season 1. Starts at 5x07.

Warnings: Homophobia

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Thanks to Joey for betaing this fic.

Four days later, he was nursing a beer in the dark. He had taken a week off. The accident had shaken him more than he realized. He hoped McGee would not joke about his passing out when he got back from his little impromptu vacation. He was pretty sure Ducky had told them all about it – after all, they had had to call back an ambulance. He was glad the 'Probie' was feeling more and more confident, but while he liked to tease, McGee had a tendency to aim his jibes just below the belt. Normally, he could cope with it easily, but he was feeling particularly vulnerable and he still had to try and keep those feelings in check if he did not want to have to hand out his resignation to the Director. The less he saw of her, the better he felt. Especially since the 'Benoît Incident' as she liked to call it.

Tony had not shaven in three days. And he probably smelt like sweat and alcohol. He just sat there, against the wall, in the dark, unable to eat, unable to sleep, unable to feel alive.

Tony had visited Gibbs at the hospital, as soon as the doctor allowed Gibbs' visitors inside the ward, but he had stayed behind a door, stealing a glance to see if the man he loved really was okay before turning back without Gibbs even knowing he was there and tossing the flowers he had brought in the nearest bin. He knew the man wouldn't like them anyway.

He did not have the courage to face him just now. He was afraid he would break down again. Boys did not cry. And he was a grown man. A DiNozzo. He had survived Y. Pestis, for God's sake. He had survived multiple explosions and shots directed at him. Yet he could not face the fact that the man – the man! – whom he unrequitedly loved had nearly been killed. Once again.

Most of all, he was afraid he would blame Maddie for it.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he had clung to Jeanne. That he had tried to love her instead of Gibbs. Because he knew exactly how dangerous their job at NCIS was, and that if he lost himself in his love for Gibbs, and then lost him in action, he would lose not only his smile but his soul… Being with Jeanne was easier in every respect. She was a woman. Not a co-worker. She loved him already. Or at least, she said so. All he had had to do was smile at her, use the charm he had used countless times on random girls, in various places, and she had fallen into his opened arms. He believed that in time, he would have found some measure of happiness – even though it was all just a lie…

And yet when she asked him to choose, he had chosen Gibbs. He hadn't hesitated. Because Gibbs would never know what he was to him. He had chosen Gibbs over a woman whom he loved somehow and who loved him in return, he had chosen his job over her because he could not bear the thought of not seeing his boss anymore. Even if he had to be there the day he died, he would seize each day he spent by his side. If he had to be present when he died, he would take his hand and take the coward's way to tell him how much he loved him and had loved him and would mourn every day he would spend without him. He had hurt so much when they had lost Kate. But Gibbs…

Oh God, Gibbs…

And here he was, sitting alone in the dark, trying to get pissed on beer, just because he _could_ have died. Just because…

He remembered that day at the hospital. Kate had stayed by his side all night long. Yet he had felt so lonely… Gibbs… Gibbs had told him to live and he had… but afterwards?

He knew his boss had other things to do. More important things. Yet he would have liked for him to come over once more, just to check up on him, make sure he was okay, during his recovery. Not just show up when he was cleared to go home and order him to come with him to his place.

He shook his head. He was delusional. He did not know which was worse. That his boss did not even bother, or that Tony never really tried to make him care.

He knew Gibbs would resent him for his weakness if he saw him like this. That is why he had taken his little vacation. In order to take the time necessary to tune back into his old Tony self. The one who dates girls and acts silly and smiles all the time. Acts silly and says silly things to help people put things into perspective. That, he thought, had cost him Gibbs' regard, too, since even if his gut had told him Kate would be okay when she was kidnapped by Ari, he had pushed too far and completely disregarded Gibbs' fear to lose their team mate, as well as underestimated the terrorist's skills and goals – and how much of a psychopath he really was.

One of the heaviest weights on his heart.

Smiling was not hard to do around Gibbs – even his trademark whacks tended to wrench a smile from him. Though of course he protested. That would be the only sensible thing to do. Still, secretly, he knew those were the only tokens of affection he would ever get from Gibbs, so he cherished every single one of them. And when he received none for too long, he grew anxious.

'Oh God…' he groaned, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes, willing himself very, very far away. He loved life. He loved his life. But each time one of them was close to dying… When Gibbs… Hell, even jail had not been as depressing a prospect as 'this'. He had the hots for his boss. He had the hots for a man who had been married four times, divorced three, who had a thing for redheads – female redheads –, who, as far as he knew, was (more or less) dating a woman right now, who had given no indication whatsoever that he had ever been remotely interested in men, and who was not over his first wife's death yet, whom he obviously considered the love of his life.

His _boss_, for Christ's sake.

'God…' he said louder.

'Sorry to disappoint you, it's only me…' said someone in his doorway.

He froze, looked up, and shivered.

'G… Gibbs…' he squeaked.

Leave it to the man to find the moment when you are at your most vulnerable (while you really, really, really do not want him to see any weakness in you) to trespass. His voice seemed thin and high-pitched, even to his ears.

'Y-you scared me… Wh-What are you doing here??'

'What the hell are you doing sitting here in the dark, DiNozzo?'

'Err… Drinking beer?'

Oooh, he did not like it. Not one bit. It was hard enough to concentrate so his heart would not jump out of his ribcage… And now his boss was here, watching him sit in the dark next to his bed, with no intention or strength enough to get up, more stubble than he had had after the Jeffrey White case, and…

So…

Had he not been deprived of Gibbs before that day, he would have handled this just fine. Three little days to recover from the shock… It was as if he was getting a fix of heroin half-way through the process of withdrawal.

But now, Gibbs was there, standing in the threshold of his bedroom, a dark figure against the corridor full of light, and Tony could not make out his expression in the dark.

And even so, he could not tear his eyes away from the man. The man he had very nearly lost. The man he had thought he would not be able to save.

What was Gibbs doing here, staring at him in the dark? Sure he would see more of Tony than his Senior Field Agent saw of him, but why look at him at all?

What was he waiting for? For him to fall apart?

Once more, Tony was terrified.

'So he didn't exaggerate…'

Tony blinked at Jethro's sigh.

'Who?'

'Ducky. Told me you were in shock.'

'I'm not in shock.'

'Ya think? Look at you!'

There was irritation in his tone, and anger, but his voice was also clipped with worry, and even in his state, Tony could hear it. That did not prevent him from flinching.

And what was he doing there anyway? Wasn't he supposed to be at home, sanding his boat or in Mann's arms? Wait – technically, she was in Hawaii. But she could always return. As far as he knew, she could still come from time to time. Not to mention the fact that Gibbs had nearly drowned not so long ago. His boss really should be someplace else. Like at home, recovering? Why come to Tony's while the agent moped liked a spoiled child…

Everything Tony could wish for, he had. Well, he was a bit lonely, but that was okay. But the one thing he wanted from the bottom of his heart…

'Boss… I… ah…'

Tony faltered to give any explanation for the state Gibbs had found him in and smiled bitterly, looking down at the floor while he rubbed his palm on the nape of his neck. He heard Gibbs come closer and kneel down next to him. His breath caught. He did not dare to look at him. He decided he had to play dumb. For now. Anthony DiNozzo was not very bright anyway, was he?

Falling in love with his boss… you bet he was not bright…

'Mind if I sit here?'

'… Make yourself at home.'

When he felt Gibbs' hand on his forehead, he thought his heart had finally managed to climb out of his throat and decided to go and see how the world looked like. He shuddered, froze. Gibbs' hand against his heated skin felt good. Very good. So very good. So very right. And he could feel his breath on his cheek. Good too. Especially given the fact that only days ago, he had spent so much time trying so hard to coax said breath from a dying man.

Gibbs grunted and dropped his hand, only for it to return a second later on Tony's hair, petting gently.

'You know', he said with a somewhat amused, but still worried voice, 'I'd have liked it if my 'best' Senior Field Agent had checked up on me, just to see if I really was alive…'

'The girl… Is she… Is she okay?'

'Maddie's fine, Tony. But don't you drop the subject.'

'Ducky came over. And I phoned Abby.'

'Yeah. And you scared the living crap out of her…'

Gibbs' voice was uncharacteristically neutral. Tony did not dare answer a word. He didn't look up. He was afraid of the disappointment that he could imagine painted all over his boss's face. He did not know he had scared Abby. He remembered he did not feel well at the time. That was it, probably. He did not feel well, so Abby had overreacted. She sometimes got like that. They all knew it. No big deal.

'You sure you're okay?'

Tony snorted.

'I'm not the one who nearly drowned in a car like three days ago…'

'Yeah… Well you could have caught a bug in that water and developed pneumonia again. What were you thinking, DiNozzo?'

'Well, that's precious, coming from you. What were you doing out there, without back up?'

'Yeah… Well…' Gibbs answered grudgingly.

'… What are you doing here, boss…' the young man sighed.

Tony knew he sounded exhausted. He willed his hands away from his head and tilted it backwards, chasing Gibbs' hand until it returned to stroke the hair on his temple. As weak as his reaction was, Tony did not, could not break the contact entirely. He would enjoy the touch for as long as it would last. Relish in every second. It took all his willpower not to lean into the touch and groan in frustration when it went away. Still, he did not open his eyes. It helped him concentrate on the wafts of Gibbs' scent that he received whenever the man moved a little.

He knew his boss was watching him closely. But right now, he was damn too depressed to care.

'Told you. Checking on one of my team mates. When I came back to work today, I was told by Jenny you'd gone on a vacation. Not even a word on my desk from you. I understand you've been under a lot of pressure these past few months… hell… Years… But I thought…'

Tony opened his eyes and looked at Gibbs tiredly.

'No offense, boss, but I haven't had a break since Methuselah. And yeah, like you said, needed it…'

He sighed.

'I know I should have just called or something. Made sure you were okay… directly… But you're at work, right? So I figured, if I get away from work, it's best not to piss off Boss over the phone with my silly babblings. 'Sides, he needs the rest, and so do I…'

_Liar_…

He knew Gibbs was looking at him closely, and he swallowed, gazing absent-mindedly at the floor once more.

'Hell, you're scaring me too, right now, DiNozzo…'

'Sorry, boss… Don't mean to… I know it's weak of me… just… Just so tired…'

'Yeah. Don't apologize. _That_ is a weakness. You know the drill. Have you had a look at yourself in a mirror lately, Tony?'

'Mmh nah. Not in the mood. Think I don't look so hot.'

'Tony…'

'Sorry boss.'

'Have you been eating?'

'… Of course I have been eating… What? You think I'd…'

'Exactly.'

Yes. He had forgotten. Shit happens. Three days in a row, it was not quite as often. Still… He had not felt like eating anyway. Beer seemed appealing enough. But food… Nah. It wouldn't have stayed with him.

'Tony…' Gibbs sighed. 'What am I going to do with you…'

Tony looked up sharply.

'Hey don't joke around, boss. I'll be ready when I come back to work, I swear… I just need a little…'

'Tony…'

Gibbs had laid a hand on Tony's cheek, stroking it gently despite the stubble that was surely grazing it. God he loved those hands. How they cool felt against his heated skin.

'You're feverish. You're shivering. As far as I know, you've been staying alone in the dark, living on beer for the last three days, after you completed your report and asked for some days off. You shy away even from Ducky when he tries to help you, and you scare Abby with your 'dead voice'. You know Abby is not scared by morbidity. Just… Yes. But there you are. She said it was not you she heard, Tony. She said it was as if you were trying to sound nice and dandy, but hell… I thought she was overreacting but she was right. She was right and you know it. You've seen too much. You've lived through too much.'

Gibbs was getting visibly angrier by the second. That was a Gibbs thatTony knew how to deal with. That nearly earned his boss a smile.

'And here you are, moping in the dark, as I said, and just look at you! Where is Tony DiNozzo, for fuck's sake! I mean, you've been shaken a lot of times. But in the end it was alright. Always. Fuck, you even had balls enough to flip the bird at Death when that Lowell woman sent us her little get together present! Hell, Tony! What the fuck is going on?'

Tony looked down, smiling bitterly once more.

'You're mistaken, boss. _You_ did all the work. You scared Death out of me that day…'

Even though he could not see him, Tony knew his boss's face had softened. He heard him scoff.

'Well, if you can joke around, it's not as bad as it looks...'

'See? Told you…'

'Come on, now, Tony. I've brought some food and something to drink. How about you go get a shower and we have a little chat?'

It was obvious Gibbs had something to tell DiNozzo he would never tell him in the office. Now they were at home and since he saw Tony looking so 'down', he could not just act like his second 'b' for bastard self would usually do. Still, it was more because his boy was visibly falling apart that he could not bring himself to crush him even more under his heel. Hell, if he could be considerate for the victims and in the front of children, he _could_ refrain from snapping once every

five years… Truth to be told, Tony was scaring the shit out of him, and even the younger man knew this.

'Sounds fine to me. Make yourself at home. I'll be with you in a few…'

Gibbs nodded once.

'Good.'

His boss stood up and turned away, already heading for the kitchen. Leave it to Gibbs not to help him up. Tony snorted, shaking his head, smiling fondly. He got up and disappeared in the bathroom, peeling off his clothes one by one before stepping into the shower and resting his forehead against the cool tiles as scalding water rained on his shoulders.

Oh he could use a massage right now…





After the shower, Tony felt a bit better. At least he felt neat and wore fresh clothes; he had shaven. Human once more. The Tony who had been looking back at him for the last three days resembled too much the Tony who had just killed White, for his liking. The events of those two days still haunted him some nights.

Sometimes, he wondered. He would not have given his life for a criminal – no. But what if he had? What if he had not been able to fire? Kate had failed to knife Ari, after all. Well, his throat would have been slit open. What would have happened, then? Would it have been Gibbs instead of Caitlyn? Would have someone else taken his place by Gibbs' side? Would McGee have dived to save his life and Maddie's?

He shook his head. No gloom. He had till Monday to recover – only till then – and he had Gibbs under his roof. Good way to practice.

As he reached the kitchen, he was surprised to see Gibbs cooking. Not at actually seeing him cook. Rather at seeing him cook for him.

'Wow, boss', he joked, 'didn't know you could do that…'

'No wife at home to help me out, DiNozzo. Can't afford to buy carryout food twice a day. Doesn't sit well with my fucking salary, next to what I spend in coffee. And I'd rather cook a bit at home than give up on coffee.'

Tony chuckled.

'Bet you would.'

He hesitated, watching silently as Gibbs cooked two king-sized meatloaves in the pan. Of course he knew his boss could cook. He just had not figured he would cook for him one day. He smiled gently, leaning against the furniture. But that question…

'Doesn't Mann cook for you when you're home?'

Gibbs looked up sharply, frowning.

'Treading on dangerous waters, DiNozzo, and you know better than that. That is none of your business…'

Tony laughed nervously.

'My bad. Sorry to piss you off, boss… I was just… wondering… That's all.'

Well done, Tony. Now Gibbs will think you're still a nosy brat who just wants to spread more rumours about his sex life at work. Well. That too. That was called revenge, after all. Though Gibbs had no idea why Tony would like revenge on Miss 'Man'. Hell, if he was bi, couldn't he be all the way? Bastard.

He chuckled. If Gibbs could read his mind, he would bite his head off, but he didn't care. It was not like he could help his train of thoughts anyway, was it?

Gibbs' eyes had softened a bit when Tony dared to look at him again.

'You look better, already, DiNozzo. But you still look like shit.'

'Why, thanks for the praise, boss.'

Gibbs smiled at him, one of those rare real smiles that gave Tony a visual orgasm whenever they were directed at him.

'Sit.'

He did, and Gibbs shoved the meat on his plate, along with some vegetables, before doing the same in another plate.

'Dig in.'

'Sir, yes sir.'

'Come on, now…'

'Thanks boss.'

'… You're welcome.'

It was surprisingly good. Tony went at it slowly, in silence. He did not think swallowing it whole was the best thing to do, given what he 'eaten' in the last days. He could not finish his plate,

so Gibbs put it away at the end of the meal and put it in the fridge. Tony was sure there had not been so many 'things' in his fridge when he had fetched his last drink.

Gibbs had observed him the whole time, with a frown on his face, when he thought Tony did not see him, a frown that spoke volumes of his concern. Perhaps that was all he would ever get from Gibbs. Smacks on the head, a few words of concern – often spoken in anger – and even fewer words of praise.

Well, it was enough for him. As long as the older man was safe, it was alright. As long as he did not see the woman all over Gibbs, Tony could cope.

Wait.

That was not exactly enough, but he could bear it. And it would still be worth it. He could not envision life without Gibbs. He wondered… Somehow… If Gibbs went away again…

Would Tony leave NCIS?

Gibbs had always been the one that made him want to stay. Even before he had been physically and emotionally attracted to the man. When they had remarked that Tony had been there for two years, already, he had been surprised. Time had flown so fast that he had not even noticed. And yet, he had gotten even better at his job. Gotten confident enough in his own incredible instincts that a lifetime with his father – or twelve years of it – and in the company of colleagues who felt so superior to him because of their experience and the fact that he played the part of the fool all the time, had nearly crushed – and would have succeeded in doing just so, had Gibbs not been there to catch him… Save him. When there had still been time.

Yet he knew he would not leave NCIS. He loved his job. Well. He loved it most of the time. Just not when Madame Director used him for her personal crusade, not when he faced death – though that gave him quite the thrill – and certainly NOT when Gibbs faced death himself. But he loved his job. Mainly because of his boss, true, but if it had only been that, perhaps he would not have stayed that long. The dead deserved justice; he was there to deliver it. And even though the murders they witnessed every day caused him to doubt human nature seriously, he knew he would give everything in his power to keep his job and put the bad guys behind bars. With Gibbs.

Gibbs, who had been studying silently for a while, spoke up again.

'She broke you, didn't she?'

'Wh-'

'Jenny. When she… made you go out with Jeanne. And you fell in love with Jeanne. And Jeanne left you. She broke you? Abby told me some… things you said. She broke you and she made her dress like a doll. She forced Ziva on us. Not that I'm complaining – for the last part. But I'm so gonna kill her…'

Tony did something unexpected: he laughed.

'Wait, boss… No, she did not break me.'

'She never should have used you like this.'

'I was doing my job, boss. And if I had loved Jeanne that much, you'd have my badge and gun by now…'

Gibbs, who had managed to look somewhat compassionate, anxious, and irate at the same time was now frowning, clearly confused.

After Voss, things had started to change. Gibbs had said nothing on the way home. It was worse than if he had. Even though Tony could understand his ire somehow. 'Amanda Reed' had killed a friend, and a co-worker. A member of the extended family.

And she could have killed Tony. Like Wilkerson could have killed Gibbs in his basement.

Tony had been attracted to Amanda. If he had had the chance to vent his sexual frustration on her, he would have. He had wanted her, wanted to have sex with her, and all the while, he had had this feeling that hitting on her would help the case.

Well, it certainly had.

But after the Voss case, if Gibbs' silence had not been punishment enough, Kate had driven the nail back home by alluding none too subtly to his 'tonguing a guy'… That had upset Tony, but not for the reasons Kate thought. Tonguing a guy was not a problem – not that he would ever confess it. Tonguing a transsexual who was not 'fully functional' yet was a lot more disturbing. Fucking trannies was not high on his to do list, because it was not one of his kinks, though he could sympathize with them. What had upset him the most was that the guy had been a murderer. That he had brutally slain and gutted a co-worker. And what if he had followed 'her'? Perhaps the team would have found him dead somewhere – in pieces – in her trashcan? So when the next week, he had flirted with another murderess and, despite a very stressful day, Kate repeated her little pun…

Hell. He had felt so sick that he had wanted out. So sick that Kate would use so low a pun to get at him, twice, when they had all had such a bad day. In his clouded mind, he was not so sure, but he would have sworn he crashed into Gibbs on his way out.

By then, his boss had been – mysteriously – so obsessed with Ari that he had taken to snapping at everybody, especially at him, and especially – he knew it retrospectively – when Tony had risked being taken away by yet another madwoman, or by the terrorist himself. Just like Kate had. And Tony had noticed how worn out Gibbs had been looking for a long, long time… But calling on him while sing-songing something like 'hey boss, you look like crap, something wrong?' sounded way too suicidal even for him to even think of trying at the time…

The future showed that Gibbs had been paranoid for a reason. And though Tony had felt the impeding threat, his tendency to act as if nothing was or felt wrong by continuing his jibes, admittedly partly to cool off himself, had grated on everyone's nerves.

Just thinking back to that blood on his face, to the three of them on that roof made him sick and he put down his fork by the plate.

'Thanks, boss. That was good.'

Gibbs was still studying him in silence. He glanced at his plate.

'So why don't you eat it all?'

'Can't. I'm full.'

Gibbs raised his eyebrows.

'Yeah. You really are sick. Sure you don't want to stop by the hospital?'

Tony chuckled, gazing fondly at the silver-haired man.

'Oh, come on, boss. You know they're not good for me.'

'No. The bullets and bugs that make you end up in there are bad for you.'

Tony smiled.

'I'm sure you didn't even check in after you were cleared.'

Gibbs did not answer. That made Tony laugh.

'See? I knew it! Do what I say, not what I do, is that it?'

'Don't push it, DiNozzo', said Gibbs, even though he was smiling.

That did not last long. Tony's smile faltered, and he looked down at the glass on the table, his fingers playing distractedly with the tip of his knife as he heaved a deep sigh. He did not say anything for a moment, but swallowed when he felt Gibbs' hand over his, his thumb snaking underneath his fingers to stroke his palm lazily. Show him he– he cared. Tony smiled tightly, curling his fingers around Gibbs' in response.

'I… I thought this time you were dead… I thought you wouldn't make it this time…'

'Oh ye of little faith…'

Gibbs' voice was dripping sarcasm, but the fondness was evident in his grey blue eyes as he looked at Tony.

'You think a little water in my lungs can stop me, DiNozzo?'

'That was not exactly a 'little' water. You know that.'

'Yeah. Well, I had felt better. But I'm alright, now, Tony. So stop worrying. I'm more worried because of _your_ lungs right now. What you did was- well. Selfless. Courageous. Heroic. But so very stupid.'

Tony gave him an insolent smile.

'Like driving into the water?'

Gibbs rolled his eyes and Tony just looked at him, a long, long time. His hand felt so good. Why couldn't time stop, so that they stayed like that forever?

He reluctantly removed his hand from Gibbs'.

'You know, boss… I really like you… I couldn't bear it if you died… Kate was… Kate was hard enough to lose… But I simply can't afford to lose you…'

Tony felt his face burning up. He knew how Gibbs would interpret his declaration. And that was all the better. If he went down on his knees in front of his boss with a red rose between his teeth while a baritone sung 'Deh, vieni alla finestra' in the background, accompanied by a mandolin, Gibbs would have him locked up in a psychiatric ward before he could say 'Bastard'. 'Like' was like 'care', and he was not lying when he said that.

When he looked up, Gibbs was smirking at him, a strange expression plastered on his face. He sighed, raising both his eyebrows as if Tony was driving him into despair.

'Promise me to come by tomorrow. Just to say hello to Abby.'

'I'm on vacation.'

'If you don't come by so I can see you've not spent your whole day locked up in your room, sulking and drinking beer, I'll unleash her and have her babysit you. Understood?'

Tony rolled his eyes, but smiled.

'Yes sir.'

'Good.'

Gibbs stood up and Tony did too. It was the moment when Gibbs would bid him good night and Tony would see him to his car and everything would come back to normal.

'Thanks for coming by, boss. That was nice of you.'

'I don't do nice', Gibbs said, shouldering his coat as Tony watched him, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a mischievous smile plastered on his face. He knew his eyes smiled too.

'Yeah. Right. It was kind of you.'

Gibbs reached out to whack him over the head but he ducked in time, eliciting a bark of laughter from his boss.

'Very good, DiNozzo.'

'Well, you can't beat me at that game every damn time.'

'Come on. We both know we love it.'

'Tell that to my brain when my skull cracks open.'

'I'll try to keep that in mind.'

They looked at each other for a while, smiling, before Gibbs sighed, opening the door.

'Put something on your shoulders if you want to walk me to my car, silly boy.'

'On it boss.'

They walked silently down the stairs, across the street and to Gibbs' car. His boss stopped a moment, before turning to face him, a devious smirk on his face.

'By the way… Thank you for the flowers, DiNozzo.'

Tony froze and flushed a deep shade of red.

'How did you…'

'A bin just outside my door. The video surveillance confirmed it, and there were your prints all over the paper…'

'Ah… Well… Err…'

'Well, stop rubbing your hair like that, you'll go bald.'

He sat down behind, chuckling at Tony's obvious embarrassment. He looked up at him, really did, and said softly:

'And Tony. Thank you for saving me.'

He shut the door before Tony could say anything, started up, and drove off into the night, leaving a confused Italian standing in the middle of the street, gazing after his car long after it disappeared around the corner.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Bitter End 03

Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking

Fandom: NCIS

Category: Slash

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann 

Rating: PG for now (will be NC-17 later on)

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time

Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can't deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game. 

Spoilers: Every season from season 1.

Warnings: Homophobia

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. 

Thanks to Joey, who does an amazing job, for betaing this fic.

It had been a close call. Gibbs knew that all too well. If Tony had not been there for Maddie and him, he would be dead, along with the girl. And it would all be his fault, because he had not put into practice his own rules. 

What had he been thinking? If DiNozzo had done what he did, he'd have called him Probie for over a month, tortured him, and then skinned him alive. A rookie mistake, after all he had been through? He knew better than that. He had always longed for a child. Ever since Kelly had been killed. More than anything, he longed for his child, who was long dead. When Maddie had come to him, that day, he had realized that he would do anything to protect her. 

Abby was like a daughter to him, but it was different. Abby was Abby. She was the daughter who was alive. Even though she had loving parents and he had not seen her grow up. Kelly was the daughter who was dead – his biological daughter, whose diapers he had changed, for whom he had spent hours on end, all worry, because she had a cold, whom had made her first steps towards him, whose first word had been 'Daddy'. He did not love Abby any less. But Maddie was the link to that girl who was no more. She had shared her laughter. Her tears. His grief. And she was in danger. 

He was only human. It had not been possible for him to protect Kelly with all his might. He would be damned if he failed Maddie as well…

Trapped underwater, his instincts had kicked in, as he struggled to get out. Still, he hoped that his guardian angel would show up somehow and save the girl – the girl. Get them out of the car. 

And save the girl. 

Instead of just letting go, he struggled, because, somehow, he knew Tony had his six – wherever he was. And that he would never let him down. Tony had his six. All he had to do was to try and stay alive a little longer. Hold on. Help the girl out. Get out. Berate himself for his own foolishness. Hold Tony's body against his own to reassure himself they were both alive.

And yet, when he saw Tony actually dive to save them, he had frozen. 

It had just occurred to him just how freezing and dirty the water was. He had to get out as soon as possible. He had to, and get Tony some dry clothes. Get him into a hospital to check his 

lungs. His lungs. Check for an infection. Anything. Make him safe. He had stared at him through the windshield, too afraid to break the visual in case Tony would swallow the water and drown.

Because of him. 

There was nothing he could have done. But he could not look away. He owed that to him.

He had been frantic when they both realized Tony could not open the door. He had thought that the young man would surface, call for help, breathe a little – something. Instead, his Tony had done something that he had thought entirely impossible. It was inhuman. If he had been feeling rationally at the time, he would have been filled with awe.

And Tony had broken the windshield. Gibbs had felt relieved; Tony would take care of her. All he had to do was get out and get some help and get Tony to get warm. Get get get.

When the windshield had not budged, he had succumbed to an instant of panic. He had tried to break free, to no avail. But it's okay, he thought. Tony will revive her. Tony will take care of her. Tony won't come back for a grumpy old man who bosses him around and takes everything for granted and can't even swallow his damn pride and let him know how much he cares about him. 

He had been resolved to his fate. Maddie was in good hands. Tony would be okay, eventually.

He had never expected to come back to life. He had never expected to feel Tony's lips on his. Not quite a kiss – and it was frustrating. 

But Tony had come back for him. He had saved him – he did not know how. But he had. 

Maybe it was true. Maybe Tony was his guardian angel.

He scoffed, slamming his mug down on the shelf before picking up his tools again and starting to sand his boat with a vengeance. 

'You're being ridiculous, old man', he told himself. 

Well, at least, one good thing had transpired, and a smirk tugged at his lips despite of everything. He had kissed his Senior Field Agent – well, sort of. But a man could dream, couldn't he? He had tasted those lips, and dirty water, very briefly, but he had felt… 

Electrified. Perhaps it was not CPR that had revived him. Perhaps it had been the current circulating between their bodies that had stimulated his heart like a defibrillator. 

His grin broke free and he corked his head slightly downwards and to the side, as if he was trying to keep an invisible host from deciphering the source of his affectionate amusement. The grin did not last long, anyway.

Who was he fooling? Even though he admitted to – at best – paternal feelings for the man he had once referred to as his 'son', which would be almost acceptable given the time the both of them had spent together and the less than savoury relationship Tony had with his biological father, what he actually felt was far from being platonic – he had been craving for Tony's touch for years. Ever since he had first laid eyes on him, he had desired the man. Even though he had also wanted to shut him up with a bullet between the eyes at the time. Or with his tongue down his throat. But very soon, he had become addicted to that body, to the beautiful sight that welcomed him at work, to those unfathomable eyes, sensuous mouth, who smiled at him with an impossible mixture of utmost 

respect, playful insubordination and genuine care. He had always known he was bisexual. He had even told Shannon. He could appreciate a man's beauty as he did a woman's, and he had had some flings with other men before – mostly mutual masturbation, groping around and some kisses, though – but Tony's unique persona had drawn him in a matter of days. He knew that to most people, his agent was shallow and fickle and superficial. But he knew that few people cared for others as much as he did. Tony had earned his almost instantaneously. And while it had taken him some time to remember Burley's name, Gibbs already had to try hard not to call Tony by his first name on his third week at work. Tony's name, he whispered to the dark, in his bed, at night, a hand gripping painfully his treacherous flesh, panting, sweating, his name coming again and again like a litany, now hoarse and thick with desire, now hushed and secretive and filled with longing and anguish and tortured passion. 

He did not think too much of what Tony would think of him if he realized that Gibbs liked to watch Tony whenever he had the chance, to take him unawares, and not just because he had to hone his Marine skills… He felt like a voyeur, scrutinizing the shapely profile of his agent bent towards a file on his desk, or concentrating on a video game so hard he did not realize he was being watched until it was too late. 

It was not too long before DiNozzo stole his heart. As hard as he tried to repress his feelings, he knew they were there, and at several occasions, he knew they had broken through. Thankfully, he was known for being the kind of guys who looked after their own, so as long as he kept bothering Tony whenever he got the chance, people did not mind him getting too worked up when 'his boy' was in danger. At the time when Tony had contracted the plague, he had never been as overwhelmed by emotions. Except perhaps when he had learned about Shannon and Kelly's murder. His lust for the blood of those who dared to harm one of his own – and especially Tony – had kicked in almost immediately. He remembered pacing like a wolf behind bars. With a big juicy steak just outside the cell, just outside of his reach. He surely had felt like one. As he knew there was nothing much he could do to save his boy, except look for that bitch, he had engrossed himself in the hunt and had not relented until he had found the woman. It had lead him to threaten a scientist at gunpoint, and afterwards, when a complaint had been made against him, using the video recording of the laboratory as a proof, he had been stunned at the intensity of the hatred that had shown on his face at the time. He remembered Morrow had patted his shoulder with a wry smile, never saying a word, and leaving him to stare at a still of his face.

He had known it. Felt it in his gut. Tony had been dying, and there was nothing he could do. But he could not let him. Not without a fight. When he entered the ward and he overheard Kate, it was like a cold shower. He went to Tony and did the only thing he could.

He ordered him to live. 

He knew that first time that Tony was slipping away from him. He could feel it. In his flesh. In his bones. Like a silent scream creeping up his spine to explode in his head. Tony was going and he was not God and he could not keep him alive even though he would have given anything to keep him by his side. The dread that overcame him hardened his resolve. So he had whacked his head. 

And ordered again. More firmly. Believing what he was saying. He had to. He would go mad. He could not end his days in a psychiatric ward. Because the mad woman would have won.

But that time, Tony had answered, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Tony would make it. And Tony had made it. He had survived. The damage had been done, but he could still see him smile.

Well… Not for that long…

At the time when he had been wrapped up in the whole Ari business, he had completely neglected his co-workers. Well, except when Tony was 'injured'. It had resulted in him getting Kate killed. Everybody told him it was not his fault, but she had been his responsibility, and she was _his_ burden to bear. If he had felt responsible for Pacci, because he had thought a cold case could be postponed when he had his hands full of a hot one, Kate's loss had been nearly unbearable. For all of them. 

He had let them down. 

He knew he could have gone and spent more time at the hospital to spend some time with Tony as he was recovering. He knew the young man had no idea that he only went there when he was asleep, lurking in the shadows. He never actually passed the threshold. He stayed there. No need to swear the nurse to secrecy, Tony would not believe her if she had talked to him. He never understood why he feared so much that his agent learnt that he cared. Perhaps he was afraid that Tony would know to what extent he actually cared. So he tried not to show him. 

Of course he had invited Tony when he had been cleared, under the pretence that he wanted to keep an eye on him so that he would not get hurt. The agent had been restless. So he had allowed him back on the field sooner than he should have. 

And Tony had nearly been blown up in the process. 

It would have been ironic, wouldn't it, if Tony had died two weeks after surviving the Black Death?

But then again, Tony had defied the odds – and Kate had not. 

And that was about the only time when Gibbs allowed himself to show Tony that he cared for him somehow. _He_ needed it. Perhaps it was his way of apologizing. Perhaps he had realized that maybe, he was being too hard on his agents, and that Kate had nearly died before he had made her understand that he valued her as an agent. He thought they knew, and that they did not need him to always shower them with compliments on their ability to do the job. He had thought that the satisfaction he himself felt at closing a case was sufficient. He had not realized that beneath their incessant bickering, there was not only a genuine desire to please him – and he had used that tool to the fullest – but also, at least on Tony's part, a visceral need to get some sort of recognition. As if it could make a link between the two of them. Not because Tony obviously idolized him. But something more – on the human scale. A part of him he was not sure many people saw anymore. 

Tony's reaction to his sudden 'kindness' had intrigued him. And pained him. That Tony, who bore his wrath more steadily than any of his 'victims', even Stan Burley, was actually terrified of his being 'nice' had been… unsettling, to say the least. It had felt like a slap to his face. He had wanted to make him understand that he valued his life and well-being more than anything. He had wanted to cut him some slack. He had wanted – well, to hold him, obviously, but even though he had not really been able to have sexual thoughts, he had wanted to take him into his arms, and hold him, and keep him safe. He had needed his touch because he was feeling so bad, and he knew that he would have accepted none other's. 

But life had gone on. 

He had adopted Ziva into his team as a favour to Jen and because he knew they could use her assets and connections as a Mossad Agent. It was as if almost everything was normal again. Tony still attracted trouble. Still got himself badly hurt. Still managed to get abducted somehow, make him crazy with worry, piss him off, and turn him on so bad he wanted to shove him into the elevator, 

declare his undying love for him and fuck him into oblivion despite the video recording. Hell. Screw the video recording – he would ask for a personal copy. Or he could just bend him over his desk and make out in front of everybody – and particularly – just to make his point. Tony was his. Or he should be. End of the discussion. 

And the explosion had destroyed everything. 

When Gibbs had recovered his memory, he had been scared. He had been confused. He had been disgusted at the lives his government was so willing to waste. He was still back after Kuwait, somehow. It seemed to him that Shannon and their beloved daughter had been killed only the previous day. 

And then, there was Tony. His memory was fuzzy. But his feelings for the man were strong. Too strong. He had not understood why at first, but every time Tony's name was mentioned, his heart started to race. There was only one explanation. But of course, he could not admit to it. He was a Marine. A good Marine simply did not do guys. And certainly not one's Senior Field Agent. And if he did, it was nothing but sex. Or so they liked to think. He could give a hand to a buddy, from time to time. That was all. The intensity of his lust for Tony, of his desire to make him happy was dizzying. Tony just had to glance in his direction and he could not breathe any more. Not really. He had had to get away. So that he could leave without risking insubordination towards his government. So that he could grieve Shannon. 

So that he could forget about Tony.

Mike had seemed the reasonable choice to make. He trusted him. He had faith in him. And even though they had not met in the past few years, he was the anchor to his past, the only person who knew exactly what he had gone through. 

But he had those dreams, all the time. Dreams when he was not there to save the day at the last minute. Dreams in which they only found DiNozzo after months spent on his trail, his whole emaciated, barely recognizable body covered in grit, all swollen because of bees' stings. Dreams in which White had had the time to slit Tony's throat and he had to have Abby check the windshield splattered in Tony's blood. Dreams in which Tony never stood a chance against Y.Pestis and Gibbs had to watch his life painfully slide away from him…

Dreams that screamed at him that it had always been too late. That he had always been in too deep as far as his feelings for the infuriating young man were concerned. That he should not need to abide by rule 12 because he had already fallen for Tony and that he cared so much already that it would not change anything if he gave into something he could not unmake. He did not trust anyone but himself with his safety. Every redhead he had dated – or married – was just another attempt at recovering what he had lost when he had lost Shannon. Even Jenny had reminded him of her, somehow. That was why it had been so easy to 'make love' to her on their mission. That was why he had thought Shannon was still alive somehow when he woke up from his coma… 

Tony… was something entirely new. He had fallen in love with him because he was Tony, not a carbon copy of the wife who had died. He had desired men before. He had never fallen in love with them. And yet there was no way he could mistake Tony for Shannon. It was as frightening as it was elating. Or would have been if Tony had not been his subordinate. 

And yet, he had failed the young man.

In that respect, his flight to Mexico had been a mistake. He had known that his hand lingering on Tony's shoulder was not a token of his confidence in the young man good enough for him to accept that he was going. Worse, he had done it more for himself than for Tony. To reassure him that he would be okay. His emotions were in turmoil, at the time. During the short time that the contact lasted, some of his wettest dreams picturing Tony had flashed in his head. As well as the undying faith he had in the young man, and the unrequited feeling he harboured for him. He had to touch him, one last time. To feel that connection between them before he built a wall.

On the drive home, Ducky had not spoken much; it was only when they reached his house that he laid a hand on his arm and asked him why. Why? Because even though they tried so hard, they could not save anybody. No other reason, Jethro? You know there isn't. Of course, not.

Of course, not, Ducky had scoffed. They had shared a glance, Ducky's searching something in his eyes that was not there, perhaps, because at length he had let him go.

'Abigail will be distraught, Jethro.'

'It's not as if I was dead.'

'You know what I mean.'

'Yeah… I'll miss her.'

'She's not the only one who will be distraught, Jethro.'

Gibbs had looked at his old friend, inquiringly. Bur Ducky was taking his time.

'You know whom I'm talking about.'

'Tony will be just fine, Duck.'

'Yes. You did not see the boy, Jethro. He's been keeping up for you. To watch your six, catch the bastard who had you blown up. I'm sure he knew there was something going on.'

'And he was right. Now you see, let him trust his gut. He'll be fine.'

'He'll miss you, Jethro. He looks up to you. He worships you.'

There was a pause.

'He loves you.'

'I'm not his father, Duck.'

'No, you're not. But he cares for you. He tries to please you. What will happen when you're not there to spur him into the right direction?'

He had smiled. A bitter smile.

'Well he'll try to shoulder the burden I've laid on his shoulders. And he'll do great.'

'He lacks confidence. He's insecure.'

'He'll keep up.'

'At what cost?'

His smile had faltered. Ducky had put his hand back on his arm, squeezing gently.

'He needs you, Jethro. We all need you.'

'Yeah…'

He chuckled, bitter, shaking his hand.

'Yeah. He'll do fine, Ducky. He's the best agent I've had so far. The best partner. Better than Jen. And she made it to the top of the ladder. He'll be fine, Duck.'

He had to. 

'You can still come back, you know.'

'I'm going, Duck. I can't stay. I have to… sort things out.'

'You could have gone on a vacation. Tony would handle it well, surpass himself so that you can be proud of him upon your return.'

'I'm not coming back…'

'You're doing the biggest mistake of your whole life. You know it?'

Gibbs had a short bark of laughter.

'Like marrying my three last wives?'

'Worse than that. You know I thought…'

The silver-haired man waited, but Ducky had shaken his head after a moment.

'Never mind.'

'I'll miss you, Ducky.'

'Yes. Yes, so will I…'

'I'll see you around.'

And with a pat to the man's knee, he was gone.

When he _had_ come back, he had understood how much Tony had resented his departure. And how right he was. Gibbs had lost his trust – it was almost palpable. Or at least, he had lost the blind trust Tony had had in him – his trust now was more reserved. Calculated. Or else, Tony would have bypassed Jenny's order and _talked_ to him. And he knew that Tony had every right to be mad. He was mad at himself too. He had tried to make amends – he should have tried harder. And even though he wanted nothing more than grab him by the shoulders and tell him how much he loved him, and that he did not care if Tony punched him in the face right then because all he wanted was that everything was right again. 

But he had not done it, and things had been somewhat strained until he had thought Tony could have been blown up in that car, and that Jenny had ordered him to lie to him all along…

And then, there was Mann. Gibbs liked the girl. She provided him with some company. Since he could not have Tony, he liked to spend time with her. And he enjoyed being around her. She had spunk. 

When he had come back to NCIS, it had soon become obvious that Tony was involved with a woman, and that it was serious. It had bothered him. Something was off in the picture. He had not liked it when Tony went out for one night stands… He liked it even less when he had seemed to have one night stands with the same woman, repeatedly. Of course, it was because he wanted to be the one Tony felt like that about. He wanted to be the one for whom Tony would break his pattern. But deep down, he knew that it bothered him because one night stands were made for the physical relief. That Tony could go on like that for years and that he would never get close to anybody like Gibbs wanted to get close to him. 

So somehow, as long as Tony kept on with the one night stands, he still had the illusion those longing glances Tony cast at him sometimes were more than a mere figment of his imagination. He had always wondered what it was exactly that his Agent was feeling for Paula Cassidy. He knew he cared. Hell, he knew he loved her. And he knew they'd have sex. But he did not have to like it. But he had also guessed that it was her death that had propelled him to the brim into the waiting arms of the Benoît woman. No wonder he had fallen for her. Gibbs had not been there for him. Stupid pride. He should have had Tony sit down somewhere and talked to him and told him he cared, that he was sorry. That he believed in him. 

That he loved him.

And he knew that if Jeanne had not been La Grenouille's daughter, Tony would have been lost to him forever.

Gibbs sighed. This was complicated. It should not be. He put his tools down and headed upstairs to his kitchen, washing his hands and wiping them before rubbing his neck tiredly. 

What Tony had told him the previous night had shaken him. Did Tony really think his life was worth so little in his boss's eyes?

He had always cared a great deal about his Senior Field Agent. It had always been a feeling deeper that the one you have for a partner. Perhaps it was because Tony kept getting involved in impossible situations and ended up very short from being killed. He cared about other team mates as well. He cared about Abby like he would care about his daughter, had she not died… And Kate… A part of him had died that day with her. When she was shot, and her blood was splayed all over Tony's face…

Tony's terrified, gaze fixed on him… 

He had thought for an instant that Ari had had Tony, too, and that he simply had not heard the shot…

Collapsing into a chair, he buried his face in his hands. It was always so hard to face the guilt he felt. 

He knew Tony had wondered if Gibbs would have born it better if it had been him. That hurt. What had hurt more was the wounded look in Tony's eyes when his boy had hinted at it. God how could Tony think so little about himself? Was Jethro being too harsh on him all the time that DiNozzo still was so insecure?

What he would have liked… What he was wishing for… Well, he could never choose between two of his agents. If it had been Tony instead of Kate…

God, he did not want to think about it. 

Even though he was loathed to admit it, the only thing he knew was that if it had been Tony, he could never have kept what was left of his sanity.

But apparently, Tony did not know that. And thought the contrary.

Not once had Gibbs confronted the young man, weeks after Kate's death, as Tony spent much more time than usual scrubbing his face under the shower. He was not sure the young man even realized what he was doing. 

Well, he should have tried to make it up to him somehow. Really try. Show him that he cared. People like Ducky saw that he lost it whenever Tony was hurt or missing; they knew why he was mad at him when he was still recovering, or did not say anything at all because he was too upset and was just trying to vent his fear in the only way he knew – he would not admit to any weakness after all, breaking down in tears simply was not his style – or keep to himself, turning his thoughts on other cases in order to shun from the mixture of pain and relief at seeing Tony come home to him…

Admittedly, he had been too hard on Tony. Just seeing how little he thought of himself had surprised him. Then again, DiNozzo had not had such a nice childhood. He knew little of the man's family life, but it was far from being perfect. Tony's father was the kind of men who preferred sitting all day behind their desk, counting figures, his only real preoccupation as far as his son was concerned being his performances. Tony had been a seasoned cop before he came to him. Strong men did not need to be reassured of their performances. He knew Tony did not mind that much the jokes he pulled at him, sometimes. Or his slapping his head all the time – well, perhaps if it was not that often or hard, perhaps…

He had known that Tony wanted more from him. Wanted to know he really cared. But he had never been able to give him just that. Just because of his misconceptions. Just because McGee was overtly insecure and Gibbs knew that Tony would never let his own insecurity interfere with his job. 

But he had made a mistake: it put a strain on him in the long run. And that was definitely not good. If Ducky had not suggested that he should go and visit Tony, he would not have. And Tony would have reappeared at work the following week as if nothing had happened. Keeping everything bottled up into himself. Tony appeared strong enough to take all the shit he always threw his way. And maybe he was. But the plates of the scale had been far too unbalanced for far too long…

Gibbs ran a hand down his face. He had messed up. Badly. He _should_ have realized that sooner. It was not because Tony seemed to be fine with everything that he was. That was precisely the reason why he was so damned good at undercover missions – well, when he did not get involved with he/she murderers, anyway. Because Gibbs knew in his gut that Tony had not been as disturbed by the fact Voss had been a man as the fact he/she had killed Pacci. And that he felt guilty about thinking of making out with a potential suspect – or linked to a suspect – who incidentally had killed one of their own. 

That was certainly Tony's biggest mistake. Even though he saw murder on a daily basis, he still had faith in humanity. He still believed in people. 

Gibbs had drove Tony home, that day, after the Jeffrey White 'incident'. Yes, he had felt relieved that his agent had been safe and sound. 

Seeing his hands covered in blood… Seeing his head bowed down…

Hell, White could have slit his throat like a pig's for all he knew. The rational part of his brain told him the blood would have gushed forward, splashing the windshield, yet he had not dared to 

hope. Then he had seen Tony was unharmed, and the relief he had felt, washing over him, was so intense that he had nearly felt like laughing. But despite his relief, the look on Tony's face was… 

He shuddered.

God… He did not want to see Tony like this again. He knew DiNozzo had been conflicted. He did not like it when Gibbs saw just how weak he really could get. But now, he would bet anything that his agent must have wanted him to show some compassion. Or something. 

He had taken him home. He had sat in Tony's armchair and nursed a beer while he watched the young man, who was uncharacteristically quiet. Some of his tension had been eased by the end of the evening, but not his sadness.

_Not_ his sadness.

When they had called the evening to an end, Tony had offered him an unreadable gaze, a sad smile, and a quiet 'Thank you' before closing the door. He remembered he had stood outside staring at the door for some time before heading off. And Tony must have stayed behind his door because he had not heard the tell-tale noise of his feet shuffling.

Gibbs had known that there was something going on, but he had not known what. And the next day, DiNozzo had come back to work, as joyful as he usually was. Not a hint at what had transpired. So Gibbs conveniently ignored his gut feeling that told him his right hand man was just too good at his job for his own sake. And so he had not confronted him. Again.

Maybe he should have. But now it was too late. Tony had managed on his own. He always did. Somehow. 

'Well M'Gee you know there is always time to-'

The phone rang and the Marine rolled his eyes, sighing, picking the phone up to answer it.

'Gibbs… What?... Okay, we're coming. Grab your gear!'

He was up and walking in mere seconds, throwing the keys to Tony as he headed for the elevator. Tony scrambled to his feet, and hurried to his side, joined by Ziva and McGee soon afterwards.

'What do we have, boss?' Tony asked.

'Aren't ya supposed to be on leave, Tony?'

'Yeah, but you were right, it's bad for me to be locked up all day like that. A little exercise will be good for me.'

'You sure?'

'Yeah boss.'

'So be it. There is a… "club" that some Marines are known to attend. Four people got bashed in an alley outside in the past few weeks. All civilians. So the police kept it for itself.'

'They did not close the bar?'

'Nope. The guys were not that badly wounded and refused to file a complaint. 'Sides, the owner and his costumers don't want it closed, because they don't want the 'others' to win.'

'I don't understand, boss, if-', McGee interjected.

'We'll talk about it later, McGee. Why do we have to go? Simple. They found a… 'crime scene' this morning. At the place where the guys were attacked. No body. But, the area was taped and the police swear they did not tape it.'

'You mean…'

The doors opened and they went in.

'Yeah. I do. They found an envelope pinned to the tape. Addressed to a Special Agent Gibbs in N.C.I.S. That would be me.'

'Sounds like a trap, Boss.'

'It is always a trap, DiNozzo. We just have to be extra careful. And McGee?'

McGee had been gaping at Gibbs' back the whole time, frowning, trying to wrap his mind around the scant facts that he was given. Tony mouthed something to him, but he did not catch it. The doors opened again and Gibbs stepped out.

'Close your mouth, McGee.'

Tony grinned at him foolishly as he did, winking at him before following the boss. The Mossad Liaison Agent grabbed Timothy's elbow and waited until Tony and Gibbs were far enough to whisper in his ear. 

'Don't mind him', Ziva said. 'He's not got laid in a while. It's just Peter Pan coming through.'

'And that Tina he told us about?'

Ziva gave him an incredulous look.

'You don't believe every single word Tony says, do you, McGee?'

'Well… I… uh… No! Of course not!'

She sighed.

'You know, McGee, you're cute, but-'

'IF YOU DON'T MOVE YOUR ARSES YOU WALK, CAPICE?' shouted Gibbs from his position beside the car. 

'Ooh I love it when you speak Italian, Boss…', his Senior Field Agent said.

'Get your arse into the car, Tony, and wipe that smirk off your face.'

'Yes, sir…'

'DiNozzo…'

'On it boss.'

'Tony.'

The young man stopped at the sudden seriousness of Gibbs' tone and he frowned. Gibbs was avoiding his gaze – sort off, scratching his temple with the tip of his forefinger, turning slightly away from him. 

That question had been creeping up on him until some time, now. Ever since he had learned about the undercover operation. 

He faced his agent, while McGee and Ziva still were not there, dipping his voice a bit.

'D'you still trust me?'

Tony looked slightly taken aback for a moment. Then he smiled. Something melted inside Gibbs. That was a smile of forgiveness. He could never give Tony what he truly deserved. And he could not give him what he wanted to give him, partly because it was a selfish desire, but Gibbs realized exactly to what extent Anthony DiNozzo was a beautiful man…

'Of course I do, boss. I trust you with my life. There is no one I trust more.'

Tony held his gaze, smiling sweetly at him, and he felt compelled to smirk in response. Tony's smile broadened at that, and there was something in his eyes that Gibbs could not describe, even though he had seen it there many times when Tony's shields were down. His heart skipped a bit and he swallowed as Ziva and McGee reached the car. The Mossad agent spoke up.

'Err… What with the staring contest? Are we missing something?'

'Well, no Ziva', answered Gibbs, reluctantly breaking eye contact, 'but you'll both be missing something if your butt isn't in the car in three seconds.'

Tony laughed as his team mate hurried to sit down. Gibbs shook his head and sat behind the wheel. He could not help grinning.

Well. That promised to be interesting. 

'Boss, it's a gay bar…' Tony whispered, paling.

Gibbs spared him a weary glance.

'Why, yeah, well done, DiNozzo. We might make an investigator out of you, after all. What. You got a problem with that?'

'No… No! It's just that…'

Tony swallowed. It had not even crossed his mind. He knew that club. He knew it, for he had been spending his Friday nights there for the last few months. He stared at the sign. If the bartender so much as gave an inkling that he had been there before, he would have some explanation to do. 

But Gibbs was staring at him, lifting an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. 

'Ahh…'

'Cat got your tongue, DiNozzo?'

'No… It's just that… I thought you said Marines went there a lot…'

'And?'

'Well… It's a gay bar…'

'Yeah?'

'Well they're Marines…'

'You think all Marines are straight?'

'Yes! No! I mean…'

'Haven't you seen LOTS of gay Marines since you've worked for NCIS?'

'Yeah, we did, sort of, but-'

'So what is it, DiNozzo?'

'Ah… Boss… I-'

'You've tongued one of them, if I remember correctly, haven't you? So it should not be so hard for you to realize that there are gay bars that yeah, Marines attend, should it?'

'Now wait Boss I just –'

But Gibbs was already storming off and he let out a sonorous '… Shit!' as Ziva and McGee were staring at him. It was Ziva who broke the silence that had settled.

'Aw, Tony, I really wouldn't want to stand in your shoes, right now…'

Tony stared back at Ziva, a little stunned. The last thing he needed was for Gibbs to think he was homophobic. And the last thing he needed was for Gibbs, of all people, to remind him of one of his worst failures. 

'Ziva, I-'

'HEY!'

Gibbs was already coming back towards them. 

'What are you waiting for?' the lead agent said sweetly. 'For me to fetch you a cup of coffee?'

'Well, actually, that would be kinda nice…' grinned Tony.

The whack to the head was expected, but from his viewpoint, McGee could see a smile tugging at the corners of Gibbs' lips. He might have been angry or… something two minutes ago, but McGee knew the older man could not resist long to Tony's 'charming personality'. 

'That'll teach you to be a smart arse', Gibbs said.

'Got it, Boss.', mumbled Tony, obviously relieved, rubbing the back of his head as they followed Gibbs into the so-called 'crime scene'.


	4. Chapter 4

Well, that was new

Title: Bitter End 04

Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking

Fandom: NCIS

Category: Slash

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann

Rating: PG for now (will be NC-17 later on)

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time

Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can't deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game.

Spoilers: Every season from season 1.

Warnings: Homophobia

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Thanks to Joey, who does an amazing job, for betaing this fic. And thanks to her for coming up with the name for 'Chris'.

Well, that was new. A parody of a crime scene. They had had meat puzzles, a man organizing the abduction of his wife and child for money, a fratricide stripper, but this, well, not yet. It was more disturbing than some of the crime scene they had had to investigate because of the sheer strangeness of it all. The police had secured the perimeter.

'Special Agent Gibbs? I'm Detective Hugh Dowling.'

Gibbs spared him a brief nod and shook his hand before asking: 'What have you got?'

'As you can see, an envelope pinned on tape. Looks strange, huh? Four guys were beaten in this same alley the last four weeks. One per week.'

'What. No surveillance?'

Dowling scratched the back of his head thoughtfully.

'Well… The guys did not agree to lodge a complaint, and both the boss and the patrons of the bar said it would be bad publicity.'

'What day did it happen?'

The detective narrowed his eyes at Gibbs, setting his jaw.

'Every Friday night, apparently.'

'So you're telling me somebody comes and bashes young gay men every damn Friday night and you've done nothing about it?'

'At the victims' demand.'

'And how is-'

'Their boyfriends… or rather, their official boyfriends are all Marines. You're NCIS cops. You know all about "Don't ask. Don't tell". So don't tell me if you were gay, your boyfriend was beaten outside a gay club and your name had to come on some official paper, you wouldn't do it…'

Gibbs rolled his eyes, heaving a sigh, and looked at Tony, who had a strange look on his face. Perhaps too detached. Someone else would have not seen it. But it was Gibbs' job and joy to watch Tony – and he knew. He turned back to the police officer.

'You could have placed one or two undercover guys to see what was happening. Same MO, two Friday nights straight… that's one thing. Four?? Come on! Even you could figure out something to do. You're LEOs, not schoolteachers.'

Gibbs looked pissed and the policeman recoiled.

'D'you have any children, Detective?' Gibbs asked.

'Yeah. A daughter and a son.'

'How old is your daughter?'

'She's nineteen, Sir.'

'So sometimes, she goes out with her friends… To have a drink or two, maybe. If this was one of her haunts, and if it was young women who were assaulted, d'you think you'd let people tell you how to do your job?'

Dowling set his jaw but did not answer.

'Those boys have parents, Detective. They have the right to be protected like any citizen of this country. I would understand the need for discretion and the need to keep the club open, but after the second bashing, you SHOULD have kept a guy on guard, just in case. And now I guess you're gonna tell me that you opened the envelope and were foolish enough to inhale whatever was inside?'

Tony flinched, but the Detective just frowned.

'No! I'm not that stupid! I mean, we saw the addressee, found out that you existed for real, so we didn't touch anything…'

'You're not wearing gloves…' Gibbs noticed.

'I… I've got rid of them already…'

The NCIS agent sighed and turned towards McGee.

'Take his print. I'm sure that jackass touched the envelope or the tape at some point with his bare frigging fingers.'

The grey haired man put on his gloves and squatted in front of the tape, snatching the 'letter' coolly while Tony and Ziva started to shoot and sketch the area. The indignant conversation – from the cop's part – died down as he and McGee went further away from the 'crime scene'.

He stood up, knowing better after the 'incident' with the plague than to try and open it like that, and secured it into an evidence bag.

'When you're done, we go back to headquarters', he said.

His team nodded, searching the area, as Tony approached him when he entered the perimeter, scanning the ground with his eyes.

'You alright, boss?' he whispered.

'I'll be, if this turns out to be nothing…', he answered, producing the bagged envelope.

'It is never nothing', Tony remarked bitterly.

He looked at the young man, who had turned away from him. Ziva was retrieving what looked like old, long-dried blood – surely that of the Marine's boyfriends who had been mugged – as well as some remnants of vomit – which was more or less predictable given the fact that they were outside a club where they served alcohol. McGee was looking around. Tony was frowning, cocking his head to the side before kneeling down and picking up what seemed a metallic clip of something.

'What's that?' he said, clearly puzzled.

McGee stood up and opened an evidence bag for him.

'Well… I don't know. Looks like it's from… some sort of electrical device… We'll know more when we get it to Abby…,' McGee answered.

'Yeah alright…'

They spent some more time on the 'scene' but found nothing. Gibbs was a bit… perplexed by the fact that the taped area of the crime scene seemed to stop abruptly at the wall. They had retrieved it for analysis but something in the picture did not seem quite right.

He knew they would have to return eventually. That did not mean they were done there yet. So they taped the area, officially, that time, and while Tony and himself would interview the owner of the place, Gibbs sent Ziva and McGee back to headquarters to process the evidence and fill the paperwork.

Tony and Gibbs had been waiting for five minutes when a fairly handsome man in a bathrobe opened the door.

He had obviously just gotten out of bed and Gibbs caught himself wondering briefly if he wore anything underneath those… 'clothes'.

'Yes?'

The man looked at them both, his eyes lingering on Tony, and Gibbs felt a prickle of jealousy tickle the nape of his neck. He could feel Tony fidget behind him, but from where he was standing he couldn't see his expression. The man's eyes gazed back at him when he flashed his ID card.

'NCIS.'

'I see that. Can I help you?'

'You know NCIS?'

'I've met some guy who knew NCIS. Handsome guy.'

He smiled sweetly, and Gibbs had the feeling there was more than he let on.

'You the owner of the bar?'

'No. Co-owner… Sort of. But David is asleep. You'll have to wait till this evening if you wanna talk to _him_.'

'We might. What do you know about the attacks that were perpetrated against your community?'

The man tensed.

'I know it happens. I know we're not the only ones in the US to have who face the narrow-mindedness of some rednecks. It… bothers me that they chose our bar to work, and if the police were doing their job well, they'd place someone outside to watch and catch the bastard, but we can't afford to close and let them know we are afraid of them.'

'Do you think the guys who were attacked were… the provocative kind?'

'Hell no! Three of them are friends of mine. Ask them about Chris – they'll know. They're discreet. Even more so that their sweethearts are Marines. Older ones at that. They come to the bar to talk with friends, have some fun. Their boyfriends have kept quiet about their sexuality for so long to avoid any kind of problems… I mean, you'd met them in the street, apart from the fact they aren't married and they don't have kids, you'd never guess they're gay. You know, not every one of us likes to parade on a tank in a thong, waving the rainbow flag and everything. You don't have to be a queer to be in love with a man. Actually, as far as I am concerned, I want people to see that I'm not different. So I don't go out in the street bragging about my loving cock. As far as _I_ know, your boy over there could be one of us, could have been fantasizing about you for years, maybe feeding you bullshit like he's fucking at least a girl a day, while he only wants you to hug him tight for a while…'

Gibbs really did not know where that had come from, and as he turned to look at Tony, flushed and gaping as he was trying – and failing – to come up with an answer, conflicting emotions playing on his face, fleeting so fast Gibbs wondered for a while whether Tony wasn't hiding facts from him indeed… And seeing that Tony was no help in that case, he turned back to 'Chris', only to find him leering at Tony, a smug smirk on his lips, that he was biting, his eyes alight with mischief.

Gibbs could not help it, he took a step on the right so that he was keeping Tony out of the leering man's view, and forced Chris' gaze to fall on him instead.

He hadn't even realized what he was doing or why, before he'd done it. To him, Chris was a threat. Which was ridiculous, because Tony wasn't interested in men.

He frowned, nevertheless, and Chris smiled sweetly at him.

'See, here I was being provocative. They really are not. But you know, I'd put a collar on him or something to keep him from getting into trouble. I'm sure he gets into trouble each time he steps forward.'

Despite his irrational mistrust of the man, Gibbs had to smile at that.

'Perhaps I should do that. He does have a tendency to attract trouble.'

'Well, keep an eye out for him. It'd be a shame to waste such beauty…'

'Hey!' Tony protested loudly, but was ignored by both men.

Chris raised his eyebrows.

'Pleasure to meet you, Special Agent…?'

'Gibbs', the Bossman answered, shaking the proffered hand. 'I can't force you to close the bar. Especially since there hasn't been any murders yet. But I'll keep some guy around to see if they can find out anything. If you think of anything that might help us, please call us.'

'And if I just want to have a chat?'

Gibbs laughed.

'Depends. Have a night… night, I guess. We'll see you around.'

'Good bye. Oh, and good bye, Special Agent…'

'DiNozzo', Tony said stiffly.

Chris winked at him.

'I sure hope to see you around.'

'Wait you just –'

'Tony!' interjected Gibbs.

Tony turned around to look at his boss.

'What? I was just-'

'Do I have to carry you into the car?'

Tony sighed.

'No, Boss. I'm coming.'

Tony on his heels, Gibbs shook his head and headed back to the car, Chris' soft laughter ringing as the shut the door.

An hour and a half later, while Ziva and McGee were in Abby's lab, the Goth chirping excitedly as she put the metal clip away to analyze and leaned over the transparent box she used to manipulate potentially infectious objects, Gibbs and Tony sat in the car, watching at the tiny screen.

'Beautifully simple, but it's so common I'm not sure you'll get anything if I analyze it. I mean, it's the type of envelopes you can get in any supermarket. Whoever this is doesn't want us to find her very quick and-'

'Abs. Open it?' Gibbs interrupted.

'Yeah. Right, Bossman. So…'

She opened the envelope carefully as everybody was holding their breath.

'What? How anticlimactic!' Abby exclaimed, obviously disappointed.

'Well it's perhaps for the best. I mean, when I go to a pizzeria and see them pour flour on their-' Tony began.

'DiNozzo, you'll fill us in on your wonderful phobia of flour later…', said Gibbs, watching at the man – almost – fondly.

'Err… You're right, boss.'

'So Abs. What do you have.'

'Well, see for yourself.'

'I can't, Abs. I'm in a fucking car.'

'Right. Here it comes…'

McGee and Ziva leaned forward to read above Abby's shoulder, while she read the paper aloud for Gibbs and Tony to hear what was written on it.

_Crime scene, at a quarter to nine._

_I'm warning you: Don't meet the deadline,_

_And your 'precious' will meet mine._

'It rhymes…' Tony said.

'Very helpful, DiNozzo… I'm surprised you even know what a rhyme is', Gibbs sighed.

'What… I was just saying…'

'It's pretty bad poetry, isn't it?' McGee supplied.

'Well, I don't know, you're the expert in literature here… But my guess is it's not poetry at all… Just a psycho who thinks it's funny to play with words as she plays with the police…'

McGee rolled his eyes.

'Sound like Lord of the Rings, to me…' said McGee absent-mindedly.

'Ya think so, "Elf Lord"?' asked Gibbs with a vicious smirk.

Tony, who had been about to say something, chuckled.

'Any movie line is mine, here, Probie', he said. 'If I was there, I would whack you over the head.'

'Lord of the Rings was a book before it was a movie, Tony', Gibbs reminded him.

Tony rolled his eyes at Gibbs in playful exasperation, just when the team leader was reaching out, smacking Tony over the head. Tony rubbed the sore spot with a frown on his face.

'Hey, I didn't deserve that', he protested.

'Don't think about hitting him. He needs his wits about him.'

'What? You mean I don't? Oh, wait… I hope you're not saying I don't have my wits about me.'

'No. But with you, the damage is already done. We'll be back in a few. You'd better be working on your reports when we arrive.'

With a 'Good work, Abs…,' Gibbs turned the communication off, as Tony willed his glare to reach McGee beyond the now blank screen.

When they arrived in the bullpen, Gibbs told his team he would be with the Director for a while, so they should as well have something to eat. Tony ordered in, for his boss as well, and was trying to wolf down a quarter of a pizza in one go when Gibbs reached his desk, stealing a piece or it before whacking Tony's head.

'Hey! What was that one for?'

'Table manners.'

'I learned from you', Tony pointed out as their colleagues were trying very hard not to laugh.

'Yeah, well you're not supposed to repeat everything I do. Especially the nearly exploding part. You got that?'

Tony grinned.

'I'll try not to get blown up, but forgive me if I like to get just blown once in a while…'

Gibbs chocked on the pizza he was eating and Tony was at his side in a second, hitting him in the back as if it would help him. It did not take long for Gibbs to get better and he glared at Tony.

'Care to repeat that, DiNozzo?'

'Aw, come on, this was priceless… I know you don't think so but –'

'Get into the car, everybody,' Gibbs butted in.

Ziva and Timothy did not wait long and almost ran to the elevator while Tony was lagging behind.

'So, boss… Who's your precious…', Tony piped out cheerfully.

Gibbs turned around wearily giving Tony 'the' look. That wiped the smile off the younger man's face for a moment. He went on walking, not paying Tony anymore attention, but of course, his agent would not leave it alone.

'Hey… I was just saying. You know. If you have a sweetheart, we'd better know 'bout it, to protect her, you know. 'Cause she may be a target.'

There was something more in Tony's tone. Something bordering sarcasm. Something Gibbs quite did not place. He stopped, faced Tony once more and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Tony had a huge goofy smile on his face.

'Or… It might be your boat.'

'I don't have a 'sweetheart', Tony…'

'Really?? I mean, sorry, that sucks, boss. I mean… you know, you really deserve to be with someone and-'

'Save it, DiNozzo…'

Gibbs had turned around again and headed towards the elevator. The thought that maybe _they_ knew kept nagging at him, which was utterly ridiculous, because even Tony had no clue…

'You're worried, boss…'

That stopped him. He pushed the button of the elevator to send McGee and Ziva on their way, and gave Tony a warning look.

'Hey, don't look at me like that,' Tony protested, 'it's one of the reasons you hired me.'

'And pray tell, what makes you think I'm worried, DiNozzo?'

'Well I can tell.'

'You're very confident.'

DiNozzo rolled his eyes.

'My gut… And I…'

Gibbs waited as Tony lowered his gaze for a moment.

'Well, I guess I've learned to know you. A bit. So. What's up?'

'Well you tell me…'

Tony observed him for a moment, undoubtedly trying to assess his mood and the possibilities that he could make it out in one piece.

'Okay. I know you're worried. And before you say anything, I know it's pertaining to the case. So. The letter. It was that face you made when you read it. You hid it very well, but you can't hide from me. Well. You can, but I know when you do it. And you're doing it right now.'

'So?'

'Well. I understand, you know… if you're seeing someone… or… spending time with someone lately, someone you hold dear – well, I know you love Abby but-'

'To the point, DiNozzo.'

'On it, boss.'

Tony breathed in, casting a concerned gaze at his employer.

'I understand if you want to… protect that person. Whoever they are. But can't you trust me with this, boss?'

He looked dejected, and Gibbs knew he had to say something, because Tony still seemed to feel like Gibbs really did not care about him. The lead agent sighed, walked up to Tony, and put both hands on his cheek, firmly. He swallowed. It was not easy. Give him something to let him know he did care, and trusted him, but not enough so that he would not see the real truth behind his words.

'I'll tell you something. There is nobody alive that is more precious to me than you are. Well. Maybe perhaps Abby…'

He gave a vicious smile, but when Tony started to say something, as the gleam of hopefulness that had arisen in those eyes just seconds ago had vanished, he held his face even tighter, resisting the urge to make his point by kissing the man square on the lips, and went on.

'But I swear. Nobody. You got that?'

'But you're still worried, boss.'

'Yeah, yeah I am. There's so nut case out there that thinks I have a "precious", and I don't know who they think it is, and I don't want someone to get hurt, abducted or whatever because of me.'

Tony searched something in his eyes, and Gibbs opened himself enough that the young man could feel some of his warmth coming through. Tony gave him a sad smile. There was something in his eyes that Gibbs could not identify, but also some of the peace that he had robbed from him just minutes ago.

'Got it, boss.'

'Good.'

Gibbs petted his cheek and let go, calling the elevator.

'You know, DiNozzo, you really should-'

'BOSS! WATCH OUT!'

And he was already on him, pinning him to the ground, as the gun was fired.

'Shit…' He pushed Tony off him to get up, gun at the ready, refusing to look at him just now when the guy who had taken a shot at them may still be there, somewhere, waiting to lodge a bullet in his head.

'Stay down, Tony. Don't move…'

He was looking all around him, frantic, trying to stay calm as Ziva too was searching the area, trying to locate the one who had just shot. But there was no one to be seen.

It was his worst nightmare playing all over again. If Tony stood up just now, he would have a hole of his own in the head. He knew it. It had happened once before. Gut feeling. Same situation. Shot at. Someone who took the bullet – Tony – for him. Here they were in a street, but it was all the same.

Though he knew Tony had not been wearing a vest…

He heard McGee checking on Tony, heard him call an ambulance. When he heard Tony's groan, he was partly relieved, despite how weak his voice sounded.

'I'm alright, boss. Just a…'

'Shut your trap, Tony, it's not a scratch. And stay down', McGee said.

Well, for once, McGee was saying the right things.

Gibbs exchanged a look with Ziva and took a deep breath.

'SHOW YOURSELF!'

'Why, but that is not part of the plan and you know it, Special Agent Gibbs…'

A bit jammed, but… Female voice? What the hell??

'I don't like games, Miss…?'

A quiet laugh. It was near. But Gibbs could not see anyone.

'Well, now… If I told you, I'd be the mouse and you the cats, right? Well, I don't think I'd like to play that way round. I'll tell you what. I'm the voice of God. I am Revenge…'

'What is your fucking name?'

'You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you? Ooh my… You know, you should… Seize the day and suck the marrow out of life and… I don't know. Make out with lil' Tony here…'

Gibbs winced.

'Oh but I can assure he would like that very much, you know. Well, if you don't, I do.'

'She's mental!' cried Tony, as loud as he could.

'Yeah, you would say that, now, wouldn't you? Wouldn't like to lose your job on this, or to be assigned to another team… That's why you refused the team in Spain, isn't it?'

'What?'

Tony shot Gibbs an apologetic glance, trying to smile. His face was sweating quite a lot.

'Look, we'll talk about it later, okay? Now we… Ouch… we have to find that – bitch.'

'I heard that, DiNozzo. That's not very courteous.'

'Well you know what? I don't do courteous… when people shoot at me.'

'Oh, but I was shooting at Gibbs, originally. You trained your puppy well, Leroy.'

'It's Special Agent Gibbs to you', the ex-Marine snapped.

'Leroy. You trained your puppy well. He's got one keen eye when it comes to finding evidence I didn't want him to find – or perhaps I did – and gut like your own. But you're right, DiNozzo – 'Leroy' will hurt more if I shoot you. After he kidnapped Katie, and after he had had to kill the blonde bitch who had to dispose of your precious boy, Haswari had planned to take lil' Tony down the last, even though he did tend to look up to you very much… Or rather to look up _at_ you, but… Perhaps you should ask Tony why he was so pale, earlier. Perhaps you should ask him how he knew it was a gay bar. And perhaps I should put a hole in his pretty little head. Now.'

Tony winced, but Gibbs did not know if it was because of the pain or the memories that a shot to the head triggered in all of them.

'If you touch him I swear…'

'Oh, come on, what would be the fun in that? I'll let you all mature a bit, and when you are ripe, I come and reap you. Savvy?'

Not savvy at all. But there was no way they could tell where the voice was coming from. Tony was trying to stand up and Gibbs kept shushing him, ordering him to stay put – the blood loss would be worse if he actually moved.

'Listen, you bitch… I don't know who you think you are, but-'

'Aw, Agent DiNozzo. I'm hurt. I really thought you addressed women more gallantly.'

'And I really thought I told you I didn't bow to women who shoot at me…'

Ziva and McGee had been looking around them for a while. The faint echo of the silenced gun had reverberated against the walls of the narrow alley, and until Abby did a reconstitution of the scene, there was no way they could tell where the shooter was hiding. Ziva spoke up.

'Why are you talking about Ari?' she asked.

Her brother had double-crossed them all, but he had still been his brother, and she had loved him. And mourned him. Still did.

'Can you not guess, Special Agent David? Haswari was my lover. He said we would marry, you know? You should have been my bridesmaid…'

Ziva shivered but squared her shoulders. The voice seemed to come from behind the wall. But behind the wall, there was the club, so it was impossible for the sound to come from there.

'You're completely insane', she whispered.

'Am I, Special Agent David?'

'Yes, you are. You really think Ari would marry anybody?'

'Of course. He loved me.'

'You really believe that, do you?'

'Haha', Tony winced at he laughed, his face filled with contempt. 'Like he loved that Swedish girl?'

'No. She was a tool. He loved me.'

'He used you,' Gibbs said.

'Shut up.'

'He used you, as he used that girl, and Mossad, and myself,' he insisted.

'I SAID SHUT UP! Haswari loved me. You just don't understand.'

Ziva had a bitter laugh, but her voice was hard when she answered.

'Ari did NOT love you. Ari did not love anybody.'

'You're mistaken, "Ziva"… He loved his dear half-sister very much, you know…'

Ziva set her jaw, ignoring the confused look McGee threw in her direction.

'But since he wouldn't want me to shoot you and it'd be too easy to shoot Gibbs just now, Tony here will be so kind as to take two more bullets for you two, won't he?'

'NO!' Gibbs interjected.

'You injured my pride and you hurt my feelings. And you tainted Haswari's memory.'

The woman sighed.

'But at least, you obeyed my orders. So I can't kill him now, can I?'

'If you have to shoot somebody, then shoot me,' Gibbs said.

'Oh no, Leroy, that would please you too much…'

A muscle played on Gibbs' cheek. He turned to look at DiNozzo. There was a silence, then, before anyone could move-

'Do it,' the voice said.

And two gunshots were heard almost simultaneously, Tony crying out in pain as both his legs began to bleed profusely. McGee had wiped out his cell phone and called an ambulance when Gibbs, desperate, incensed, incapable of bashing that woman's brains in, began to shout in earnest.

'SHOW YOURSELF, YOU BITCH!!' he repeated. 'SHOW YOURSELF, SO I CAN PUT YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MISERY!'

The voice laughed hysterically.

'I told you already, I can't. Now. Be a good boy. Oh, by the way, tell your "precious" he should not go out around here on Friday nights, you know… Some people don't like men like him… It'd be a pity if he got hurt anymore than he has to… Well, good night, Special Agent Gibbs…'

There was a clicking sound, and the voice went dead as Gibbs was looking at Tony, understanding dawning on him. He did not have to believe that woman's voice, a voice he did not trust… but… he was sure there was some part of truth in what she had said, and as he looked into Tony's ashen face, damp with perspiration, and lined by a frown of pain, as he looked into Tony's expressive eyes, his heart skipped a beat. There was remorse and shame so intense in those eyes that he wondered what had triggered it.

'I'm… so… s-orry, boss…' Tony said.

And he had to close his eyes.

'Don't be,' he answered softly, kneeling by the young man, taking his hand into his own and squeezing tightly, until the sirens arrived, shrieking into the night…


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Bitter End 05

Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking

Fandom: NCIS

Category: Slash

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann

Rating: PG for now (will be NC-17 later on)

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time

Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can't deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game.

Spoilers: Every season from season 1.

Warnings: Homophobia

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Thanks to Joey, who does an amazing job, for betaing this fic.

Like every single time when Tony got shot at, was abducted, or when he caught the plague, Tony had been extremely lucky in his woe.

The first bullet had grazed the liver, very near the portal vein, and though the wound had bled profusely, the beginning of an internal bleeding had been controlled easily. The legs were paradoxically more problematic, since one bullet had shattered the femur, and the other had punctured the femoral artery, which had caused him to bleed. But the surgeons had done a good job, and given the time to heal (which he would have to spend mostly in a wheelchair so as not to put a strain on his thighs that would compromise the healing of his thighbone or tear the stitches) Tony would be good as new.

That also meant that once Tony got out of ICU and was cleared by the doctors to go home, he would not be cleared for field duty for a while – which had annoyed Gibbs to no end because he needed his skills in the field, and because Tony was not fun to be around when he was assigned desk duty for a long period of time. Worse, he became reckless and did stupid – albeit very brave – things such as take a key to a trapped trunk to be blown up instead of his co-workers.

There was another problem. He could not live in his apartment. There were stairs, no elevator. So he had asked Tony to come live with him for a while without even thinking. It was only when Tony blinked and hesitated that he recognized the impropriety of his proposition. Impropriety that was there only because he had set the boundaries too tightly. Of course, he had asked Tony to come home with him for a while after the plague – but it had barely lasted a week. Here, he was offering his home for something that would probably exceed a whole month. He had cursed and was about to take it back when Tony had finally answered, wearily:

'Yeah boss… I'd like to…'

So here they were. Tony still in ICU, on drugs, as he would be for a while, and after talking with the doctors, he had secured guards at the doors of Tony's rooms – which, of course, Tony had contested until he told him that it was that or Gibbs at Tony's bedside for the whole duration of his treatment.

On hospital coffee only.

And of course, Tony had relented.

He was not taking any chances. The woman was crazy, and she had preposterous ideas, but she did seem to know them well enough for him to feel the need to be as careful as humanly possible. Tony had already taken the full brunt of her disillusions. He was not risking his agent's health anymore than necessary. And leaving him all alone for a long period of time, when he was wounded, in an unfamiliar place where he could not defend himself, was really not an option.

The bitch could still bomb the building, but he was sure she would not go to those lengths. Besides, she seemed to want to make him suffer, and bombing a whole building because one person inside happened to be 'his precious' was far too impersonal for her to use it.

So here he was now, back into his office, brainstorming everything they got – which was nothing, since Abby had already determined that there was no print on that tape other than Dowling's, and neither was there on the envelope. As for the metal clip, there was a partial, but too tiny to be usable. Besides, someone could have picked the thing up just to have a look at it and thrown it back down because it was just junk. This was also problematic insofar as it could mean that the scene had been compromised.

They had cleared both the area and the club, and Abby was trying to make a computer reconstruction of the attack. But it was not easy.

So they were there with evidence that led them nowhere. And of course, Gibbs was getting more and more pissed off. It did not bode well. Ziva and McGee, who had just given their boss his coffee, which he had not touched in half an hour – which was a sign that the Second Coming was at hand –, exchanged a look.

And then, it hit Tim. He took a hesitant step forward, frowning, scratching his temple.

'Boss?'

Gibbs wiped around and raised his eyebrows. He looked feral, even more like a wolf – a trapped wolf – that had for the last half hour been pacing holes in the office floor… McGee gulped but stood his ground. Even though he did lean his head backwards a bit, as Gibbs had stepped into his personal space, the tip of their shoes practically touching.

'Boss, I was thinking… That clip, you know? There were snipers, and we didn't find them. But I'm sure there… well, at least there might be some kind of… device that would allow that woman to see us and talk to us.'

'You mean, like a camera?'

'With speakers, yeah, basically. That would explain why the voice sounded jammed from time to time.'

'But it still worked.'

'Yeah.'

'Well, what are you waiting for?'

'Boss?'

'Why aren't you looking for it, McGee?'

'On it, boss!'

He grabbed his coat and was running towards the elevator as Gibbs turned to Ziva who was looking at him.

'Why are you still standing here, Ziva?' Gibbs asked with his 'pissed off but oh so calm' voice.

'Ah… Right.'

She joined McGee as the elevator doors were closing under Gibbs' scrutinizing gaze. Gibbs shouted in the direction of the elevator: 'And try not to get yourselves killed!' before he lifted his coffee to his lips and took a sip.

Cold.

He frowned, stared at his coffee as if it was the cause of all his sorrows, then at the elevator door as if it was McGee's fault for bringing it to him, then spat in the bin, throwing the cup full of liquid inside. Then he headed towards the Director's office.

A quarter of an hour later, Gibbs was reaching his car in the car park, snapping his cell phone closed after calling McGee to let him know he was going back to the hospital and to check any progress they could have made, when he noticed an envelope addressed to 'Special Agent L.J. Gibbs' that had been stuck underneath the windscreen wiper. Swearing under his breath, he slipped on a pair of gloves and snatched it up, before he practically ran back to headquarters, the wheels in his head turning at full speed. The car park was private, which meant whomever had slipped the envelope must have been cleared at the security post. Which meant he or she was one of them – a mole? – or a visitor.

But perhaps they would be able to get an ID through the recordings of the video surveillance. He snatched his phone and called the Director.

'C'mon, Jen, pick up…'

'Director Sheppard.'

'Jen, it's Gibbs. No one is leaving NCIS until further notice. Understood?'

'Wha- Jethro, what's going on?'

'No time to explain. Meet me at Abs' if you want to know. But in the meanwhile, no one is leaving.'

'Jethro, I can't poss-'

'You're the Director, Ma'am.'

'Jet-'

He hung up, displeased at the tardiness of the elevator. He fidgeted for a while, before he decided to take the stairs. The door to Abby's lab banged open as he barged him, frightening so much the girl that she nearly dropped the slide she was holding.

'Gibbs!! Don't ever do that again! You want me to have a heart attack?'

'I don't frighten you anymore when I walk up on you. I had to find something else', he joked, though his expression was sombre.

'Uh oh… Something bad, hey? It's not Tony, is it? Tell me he's not dead!'

Gibbs rolled his eyes and produced the envelope.

'Gimme gimme…', she said, carefully putting the slide down. 'Still that bitch, huh?'

'That's what I want to find out.'

'Can I punch her nose when you find her?'

She had already placed the envelope in the box and had slipped her hands in the plastic gloves. That's what he liked about her. Funny, smart, and efficient.

'Maybe I can arrange that', he said, his spirits lifting a little already.

'Where did you find this?'

'On my car.'

Abby stopped what she was doing, gaped at him, a worried expression on her face, and said after a while: 'Oh my God!'

'Exactly…'

She endeavoured to open the envelope and took the paper out for them to read.

'So let's see… _"Do you trust the personnel in Bethesda with your beloved 'Saint Bernard', Special Agent Gibbs?"_ She's mad! She's raving mad! And why would she think Tony was "your beloved 'Saint Bernard'? I'm your favourite, aren't I?'

Gibbs had paled, his jaw tightening. She was right – she was raving mad. But it was something they knew already. If anything, her potential association with Ari was proof enough. And if not, her thinking she had lived the purest of love with him and plotting for years to bring down the man who was supposed to have killed him was concerning. The allusion to the 'Saint Bernard' was even frightening, as he was sure he and Tony had talked about it years ago. Worse, the reference to 'Lord of the Rings' made sense in a twisted way when you knew they called McGee 'Elf Lord'.

The fact that she knew he was attracted to Tony – that he _loved_ Tony – while none of the people of his team, including the object of his affections, had a clue, was worrying in two respects. He knew that it was partly his fault because he insisted on keeping private matters private, and he had been going out with Mann for a while before the break up. Though Tony kept teasing him about his ex wives, they all knew better than try to pry into his personal life. However, it could also mean that they were less observant than that woman. Or that she had been keeping a close eye on them all for years without them noticing. Close enough to know something he himself barely acknowledged.

He patted Abby's shoulder and gave her a tight smile.

'Of course, you're my favourite. You're like a daughter to me…'

But instead of squealing like he thought she would, Abby narrowed her eyes, as if it could help her see better into his soul, leaning a bit forward.

'But that's not all, is it? You're hiding something. You're hiding something from me, Gibbs. Or else, why would she think _he_ was "your precious", huh?'

He tried really hard not to let any of his embarrassment show and hid behind a raised eyebrow.

'Like you said yourself, she's "raving mad".'

'No, but I mean… of course he's your Senior Field Agent, but you were fucking Colonel Mann weren't you? And you've known me the longest, and Ducky of course, so why…'

She stopped, as if she was catching on something, and he tried desperately not to let anything show.

'What are you trying to tell me, Gibbs?'

'Well that I have to go check on Tony and see how he's doing, and review the security tapes to find the cul-'

'No! I wasn't talking about that… Why would she… oh God… That's it, isn't it?'

She looked and sounded far too excited for his liking. And her bouncing up and down, her ponytails dancing, as if someone had just come out of one of her machines and told her that Halloween would be early… It made him cringe slightly.

'I really have no idea what you're talking about.'

'Ooh come on Gibbs, you're no fun! I didn't know! You've told him, right? You did?'

Gibbs wore a confused expression and blinked.

'Told him what?'

'That you cared…'

'But of course, I care! He's my agent!'

'No, I mean, you really, really, _really_ cared…'

'Abs I…'

But he was saved by the arrival of the Director in the lab. She glanced at them alternatively, and he tried very hard not to look too relieved.

'What was that all about, Jethro?'

'Nobody going out?'

'Yes. I passed the order on. So now will you please explain why I had to pass that ridiculous order?'

'This.'

He showed the case that contained the envelope.

'Another letter?'

Gibbs nodded. Abby looked strangely subdued, and kept glancing at him from under her lashes. He hoped she would keep whatever was on her mind to herself.

'I found it on my car…'

'That means…'

'Yes. So now, will you excuse me, I have recordings to check.'

He was half-way to the door when his cell phone rang. He cursed under his breath, looking at the ceiling before picking up.

'Gibbs.'

'We found something, boss…'

'Define 'something', M'Gee?'

'Err… What we were looking for… Boss…'

'Good job, McGee. So why is it not in Abby's lab already…'

'We'll be there in forty.'

'Make it twenty.'

'What? But Boss-'

'Ziva's driving, right? So she'll be there in twenty.'

'B-'

He hung up and turned towards the Director and Abby, who were watching him guardedly.

'What?' he said, before storming off.

Twenty minutes later, he had been looking at the recording of the surveillance camera that showed his car when Ziva and McGee arrived with the 'evidence' they had found. Nobody had approached his vehicle, yet. He was getting impatient. He wanted to check on Tony, but there was no one he trusted enough to do it for him. He paused the tape before he looked at his agents, already grabbing his keys.

'Ziva, take that down to Abs. Then you come back up and help McGee.'

Ziva ran off and McGee came up to him.

'Someone stuck a second letter on my car. You find who that is and you bring him for questioning. Understood?'

'Yes, boss.'

'Good. I'm going to Bethesda. There's a possibility that the staff are not entirely trustworthy.'

'Oh my God…'

Gibbs was gone, already, heading towards autopsy. The elevator still was not fast enough. He had barely entered the room when he saw Ducky and Palmer in the middle of weighing the lungs of the stiff on the table.

'Ducky, you're with me.'

'Not now, Jethro. You see, our Petty Officer here has some sort of a-'

'I don't care. You come with me. Palmer can do the autopsy. He's a big boy.'

'Now Jethro I don't mean to be rude but-'

'We don't have time. Tony may be in danger, goddammit, and I won't take the chance to ask a M.E. I don't trust to check if there is anything "hinky" going on.'

'Oh my dear boy…'

'Quick, Duck.'

'Alright, Jethro', Ducky said, slipping off his gloves and robe. 'Let me just grab my coat and I'll be with you in a minute.'

Apparently, he had had no need to worry. He had asked Ducky, as a personal favour, to check on Tony and on his treatment as often as possible. Tony had been sedated when he came in, but as far as he knew, neither of the two agents he had sent – fortunately, before the interval of time the second letter had been given to him – was aware of anything amiss.

She had just been baiting him. And he had bitten.

He had stayed with Ducky at Tony's bedside, talking _sotto voce_ and resisting the urge to take the young man's hand. Every time he so much as glanced towards his agent, he felt Ducky's speculative gaze on him. On his hand millimetres away from Tony's, as if he knew his deepest craving.

And thinking back on their discussion in the car the day he had taken off to Mexico, maybe he did.

He had left Ducky with Tony, calling his team to know if they had anything and to update them on Tony's (fortunately stable) condition. Abby had identified the metal clip as coming from one of the speakers. Ziva had told him they had used Tony's movie tip to look for something in the wall when a search of the ground proved fruitless, even though it had been difficult because Ziva had had to threaten a passerby to get a cigarette, and because as they were outside, there was still some air making the smoke move, which made them think there was something where there was nothing at all. But in the end, they had found it.

Two tiny but powerful speakers, a microphone, and a video camera connected to a transmitter that were hidden in a cache arranged in the wall so that only the lens stood out in the mortar. They had tried to find the 'source' of the voice, but the area they had triangulated was completely barren, which indicated that they would have used a vehicle of some kind.

Unfortunately, the area was tarred and had been cleaned, so they had no impressions on the asphalt and nothing to go by. And as far as the preliminary reconstruction was concerned, it showed that there were certainly at least two snipers, hidden in buildings high enough to shoot into a somewhat narrow alley surrounded by walls.

As for the second letter, they had found the culprit, who had been apprehended and had been sitting in an interrogation room for the last four hours. He belonged to the maintenance service and had done nothing to hide his identity. He had left minutes before Gibbs went to his car.

The interrogation was short but intense. Gibbs knew there was something more to his story, in which he claimed that he did not know – which was possible – that Gibbs and his team were being targeted, that he had found a letter just outside the corner on his way back from Starbucks, and since Gibbs was such a celebrity in NCIS, and since he did not want to disturb him, he had just left the envelope on his car.

Which was possible, but much less probable. And the accumulation of 'since's, the careful construction of his discourse to make it plausible were too carefully woven for them to be extremely natural. Especially since the man who delivered them appeared very calm despite the predicament he was in, as if he knew they had nothing against him. Which posed another problem: why be so confident nothing was going to happen to you if you really had nothing to reproach yourself?

Gibbs was about to storm off, pissed, and thinking about Tony's condition, him laying in a fucking hospital bed because of three bullets he had taken for him, and he just looked back at the suspect who was watching him guardedly, when he noticed his shoes.

He remembered Tony saying you could know a man by looking at his shoes. He smirked.

'Good job, DiNozzo', he said, as he left the interrogation room.

Of course, the Director, who had been supervising the interrogation from behind the glass, went out and stopped him, frowning as the huge smirk on his face.

'Care to tell me what this was all about, Jethro?'

'Care to tell me how long you've been hiring maintenance personnel who wore Testoni shoes, Jenny?'

He stared at her as she gaped, and decided to head home. Let Jenny handle this. He knew there was no way she could keep the FBI out of this now. But at least he would have the pleasure of 

see Fornell. And as far as he was concerned, two bastards on the arse of the bitch who had hurt Tony were even better than one.

But he was not prepared for the surprise that awaited him when he went down to the basement, to spend some 'quality time' with his boat and have a glass or two or bourbon.

He swore loudly, reaching for his gun.

There was a third letter pinned to the hull of his ship.

So now, the asylum he wanted to offer Tony for a while had been compromised. If he wanted to be honest, it was too easy for terrorists and murderers – and ex-wives – to get in. But this was the last straw. Gun at the ready, he cleared the basement, calling McGee to ask for reinforcements, and a search team to turn his house upside-down in look for any bug that could have given him away to the bitch.

He winced. If there had been a bug in his room, no wonder they knew about his little obsession over Tony. When he came screaming his name, he tended to be rather… loud, after all.

He cleared each room, one by one, waiting for the search team to arrive, never holstering his gun. He still wanted to take care of Tony, still wanted to be there for him during his recovery. And his house really was the best one for someone who needed a wheelchair.

When the search team finally arrived, McGee and Ziva in toe, he barked orders, arranged for a locksmith to change every single lock in his house and make it as safe as the White House, ordered McGee to bring the envelope to Abby – wherever she was – and call him when they knew what was written on the letter, and then informed his team that he would go back to the hospital to check on Tony again and have some sleep.

Of course, Ziva had started to object.

'Gibbs, he is a big guy, you need some real sleep, and there are already two fresh guards outside his room.'

'Not good enough for me. I won't leave him out there all alone, Officer David.'

And without so much as a goodbye, he was gone.

McGee called him about twenty minutes after he reached Bethesda. Gibbs went out of Tony's room, keeping his voice low.

'Gibbs.'

'We've opened the envelope.'

'Good job, McGee. I'm glad you can still open something else than electronic mail…'

'Uhh… Well, don't you want to know what it says?'

'If I hadn't, McGee, do you think I would have asked you to bring the letter to Abby and call me ASAP?'

'Hey, Bossman, don't need to get all bossy on poor lil' McGee…' said Abby's voice.

'Hey Abs. Now will you read the damn letter for me?'

'Seriously. You really have to learn to say "please", you know.'

'Abs…'

'Alright, alright. Says: _"There was no need to get all paranoid, was there?"_ Bitch. Will you let her make fun of us any longer?'

'You know I want to lock her away as much as you do, Abs.'

'Yeah, what with you being all lo-'

'Abs!' he warned, acutely aware McGee was listening. 'Now is not the time!'

He could almost hear her pout as she said: 'It will never be the time.'

'Damn straight. Now, can you tell me if we have anything on this last envelope?'

'Nope boss. It's clean. As clean as the two others. Well, except from Rodriguez's prints all over the second one, but you would know that. How is Tony doing?'

Gibbs sighed and rubbed his face tiredly.

'Not bad for a guy who is suffering from three gunshots.'

'That's our Tony! Did he wake up?'

Gibbs looked at Tony through the strips of the shutters.

'No', he said. 'Not yet. Doc said he's still sedated. He said it's better because even with the pain medication, his stitches will be itching as hell when he wakes up so it's better if he's out of it for a while.'

'So you're staying there?'

He did not answer straight away, watching Tony's tired profile. He could see the bags under his eyes, too reminiscent of horrible times.

'Gibbs?'

'Yeah I'm still here. Yeah, I'm staying.'

Abby did not answer for a while. Then she said:

'You could still take my coffin, you know.'

'It's better if I'm not seen with you too much, these days. I don't want you to be in danger.'

'You know I can take care of myself.'

'Yeah. Well I'm not taking any chances.'

'It makes no sense. Why are you staying with Tony? If he gets shot at now he does not stand a chance.'

'No, but he's in a hospital facility. A military one. There are guards.'

Abby snorted.

'Whom you obviously trust since you-'

'Abs. Please.'

The magic word. That stopped Abby. Thankfully.

'Just admit that you want to be with him right now.'

'Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be there.'

'Come on. You know what I mean.'

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

'Abs, I'm just very tired. And besides', he said, looking up at a nurse who was making infuriated gestures from behind her window. 'I'm trespassing. So, see you, Abby.'

'Aww that's sweet you really should t-'

He hung up, chuckling a bit nervously, torn between the tender amusement he had for her and certain exasperation. To talk like that in front of McGee. Tim was bound to find out something and rat out someday – he just knew it.

Less than a week later, though Tony still was on high pain medication, he was cleared. He had to use the wheelchair in order to let his thighbone heal properly, but the doctors said overall, he was healing nicely.

He took Tony home to a house that now looked more like a bunker than anything. He had had his windows changed to accommodate 'bullet resistant' glasses, metallic bars to complete the locks on the different doors… If anyone other than himself wanted to get inside, they would probably have to bomb their way in.

Abby had been a constant visitor of Tony's bedside, coming whenever she had free time – which, fortunately, hadn't been all that often, because she was so anxious Gibbs was worried she would stress his agent out and hamper his recovery.

What worried him even more were the meaningful glances she kept throwing in his direction whenever Tony said anything remotely sexual, or do something she would qualify as 'cute', as if she was checking his reaction to Tony's behaviour and telling him: 'See, told you, though of course you won't talk to me about it, but you can't resist…'

Which was true, in a way, but when she went as far as buying hot dogs for Tony to eat so that she could say: 'Wow Tony you can put so much of it in your mouth at the same time!' or ice cream that he had to eat with a spoon – Gibbs had always found the way Tony ate ice cream totally licentious – he had to try hard not to just groan away his frustration. He knew it was Abby's take at revenge since he still hadn't talked to her about his presumed 'feelings'. Well, he was guilty as charged, but it did not mean he wanted Abby to know it for sure. She could pester him all she wanted, but as long as he had not said the words, as long as he had not confessed, it was only an assumption.

He had considered telling her just so that she would shut up, but he knew that if he did, he would never hear the end of it. It was bad enough that she seemed to have shared her suspicions with Ducky, who had always known things about him that he did not tell anyone, and who had said as much two years before, in that car, as he had been fleeing NCIS.

But this conspiratorial game was dangerous, and he was afraid for Tony's safety. If his two friends did not pay attention to what they were saying and around whom, they might make a mistake that would cost Tony his life…

So… Maybe he would have to tell them and stress how important it was that they kept it quiet. And that no, he would _never_ confess to the one man he loved.

Especially after his reaction to that gay bar. If Tony was homophobic, which he could partly understand after the Voss debacle, he was not losing him by exposing himself. The man certainly saw in him the father he had not really had, anyway. And if he had some interest in men, he would certainly go for the pretty hot ones. Not older grumpy guys like himself. Hell, he would not pick himself.

A confession would not prevent the goofy grins Abby would be throwing in every time she got the chance or saw them in the same rooms at the same time – she was not an agent after all, and would be no good at undercover work – but at least, the only thing they had discovered, both in his house and in the bullpen had been mikes. Of course, as hard as McGee tried, he couldn't trace the signal back to a single source, and every place they had checked had turned up to be, like the very first one, carefully chosen: deserted areas with no surveillance system and no traffic camera nearby that would allow them to find anything. The FBI had gotten nothing either and Fornell was beside himself, and – which had Gibbs more surprised that he cared to admit – partly blamed himself for Tony's condition.

Truth to be told, since even Ziva had no idea who the woman could be – which proved how crazy 'The Bitch' (as they called her now) was, and since Rodriguez had said nothing after a week in custody – which proved him as disillusioned as his employer if he thought help was on its way, as very resilient and carefully chosen, or as being an insect in The Bitch's Grand Scheme of Things.

But Tony was home now and it was all that mattered. He was a bit peeved as Jenny had insisted that surveillance would be arranged 24/7, but if it was for Tony's safety, he could only accept her decision. It made his house even more alien to him, and it had bothered Tony as he had gone in, mumbling a 'I'm so sorry, boss' that had earned him a good whack over the head, but now, slouched in the sofa in his living room in front of the TV they had fetched from Tony's house for the duration of his stay, he felt strangely comfortable.

His only regret: that he could not sit closer to Tony and take him in his arms, or even wrap an arm around his shoulders.

Now, Tony was kind of high on drugs and grinning silly at him as the credits scrolled down on the screen, and he could see the light in his eyes and wished it could be something else – something he craved but dared not claim for himself.

'What?' he asked, a bit gruffly.

'Was just thinking, it's nice when you're nice to me. I mean, it freaks me out as well, but it's not like when Kate just died, you're just concerned and-'

'I'm not being nice to you', he huffed.

'Yes, you are. And yeah, I know it's because The Bitch is after my arse but it's nice to know you care… Tell me you care…'

_You have no idea…_

Gibbs rolled his eyes, but Tony insisted.

'Come on. Tell me you care. Just this once. It won't kill you, ya know.'

'Okay. I care. Happy?'

Tony grinned.

'You have no idea.'

Gibbs blinked. The exact same words had crossed his own mind only seconds earlier. Tony must have picked on his puzzlement because he asked, a frown of worry creasing his brow:

'What. Something wrong, boss?'

'No. Just thinking about the case.'

Tony looked at him pointedly, and he knew he was not buying it for an instant, but he gave in. Gibbs sighed and stood up, switching the TV off.

'Come on. Bed time.'

'You make me feel like a seven year old.'

'Still two years older than what Ziva gives you.'

'Ha ha. Very funny, boss.'

'Come on. You need some shut eye and God knows I need it as well.'

'Are you admitting to a weakness, here?'

'I am only human, DiNozzo. If I don't sleep I-'

'Boss… I was kidding. You're not in a tribunal.'

Gibbs helped him move from the couch to his wheelchair and Tony whined to mask the pain he still felt when he had to leave his wheelchair for a while. The femur still was not healed and his weight strained the wound more than he cared to admit.

'Oh come on, Boss, I can take care of myself…'

His knees buckled, and only Tony's reflexes and Gibbs' already steady grip around his body prevented him from falling.

'Yeah. Obviously you can', Gibbs snorted.

Tony rolled his eyes, then buried his face in Gibbs' neck, and inhaled deeply. Gibbs took a sharp intake of breath. This was not happening. It could not. And he should not let his thoughts drift that way because he would be doomed and lose the only man he had ever loved. The second human being he had ever had those kinds of feelings for.

He helped him into his wheelchair, reluctant to let Tony go, just as Tony appeared reluctant to loosen his grip on his shoulders.

'Mmmh Boss… I've always loved the way you smell…'

'If I didn't know better, I'd think you were hitting on me, DiNozzo…'

The younger agent chuckled, still clearly high on the drugs.

'Hey, maybe I am. Maybe it's the drugs speaking. Maybe it makes me tell things I wouldn't dare tell you if I was myself. You should take advantage of me, ya know.'

Gibbs did not answer. It was not until he had wheeled Tony in his room and helped him into bed – ignoring Tony's protests that he really did not like sleeping in pyjamas – that he agreed to do so. If only so that Tony would not cling onto his shoulders.

'Yeah. Well, they're supposed to make you sleep, DiNozzo. So get some sleep. G'night.'

He disentangled himself from Tony's hug and stood up.

'Boss?'

Gibbs stopped at the door, turning to face the young man he loved so much.

'Thank you boss.'

'What for?'

Tony blushed and looked away. The drugs were not that effective, then, if he still could be embarrassed.

'For taking care of me. For caring. And ah… For telling me. I needed it.'

'Ah… Well. You're my Senior Field Agent. Of course I care. Even though I don't show it. Often.'

'Of course…', repeated Tony, looking down at his palms on his lap.

Gibbs frowned. Tony had sounded dejected. Why? Wouldn't that be enough? He had admitted twice that he genuinely cared for him in the span of ten minutes. Much more than he had ever acknowledged in all those years they had spent together.

He sighed.

'And you're a good man, Tony. And… Well, a friend, I guess. So of course it pisses me off badly when some fucker gets you hurt.'

Tony glanced up, even though he kept his head lowered, watching him from under his lashes. He gave his boss a bitter smile.

'Yeah. Like I said, thanks boss… You're a good man too. Even though you're a real bastard…'

Despite the anxiety and discomfort Gibbs felt at seeing the young man so despondent, the ex-Marine chuckled.

'Yeah. I'm a lovable bastard. Good night, Tony. Sleep tight', he said softly.

When he closed the door of Tony's room, the bitter smile was still there on his beloved's face… He heard a sigh, then a whispered: 'You really have no idea…' An echo to both his thoughts and Tony's earlier line. He wondered what that meant. He toyed with the idea of going back in and confronting his agent with it, but it would feel like he was taking advantage of his drug-induced willingness to talk. It was not right. He shook his head and headed towards his own room, his head filled with thoughts of a magnificent man sleeping just one storey below…


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Bitter End 06

Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking

Fandom: NCIS

Category: Slash

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann

Rating: PG for now (will be NC-17 later on)

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time

Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can't deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game.

Spoilers: Every season from season 1.

Warnings: Homophobia

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Thanks to Joey, who does an amazing job, for betaing this fic.

'GIBBS! OPEN THIS DAMNED DOOR!'

Gibbs sighed and gave Tony a look.

Tony had been living at Gibbs' for three days now. And they had been having a nice, quiet evening, Tony insisting on watching a movie, and he had relented. Working on his ship when Tony sat on the stairs and chatted was fun, but he could not go down to the basement in his condition. And since, on their first evening, Tony had admitted to feeling lonely, he had agreed to spend some time with him every night.

Besides, he found it strangely pleasant. It was pleasant because of the physical closeness he could share with Tony without anybody – not even Tony – realising just how good it felt to him, and because the silence they shared allowed him to concentrate even more on his companion.

Tony was not the kind of spectator he had thought him to be. He had thought he would spend his time commenting on movies he knew by heart. Instead, he was focused on the screen, hardly batting an eye, enjoying every second of it. Which was good, because if he noticed Gibbs stealing glances in his direction, he never commented on it.

That third night, halfway through, he had dared – albeit tentatively – to wrap his arm around Tony's shoulder. He had felt him tense and had tensed in answer, but when Tony relaxed and – had he imagined it? – leaned into him, he had felt a rush of power, a sense of triumph, warm, intoxicating, spread through him as he squeezed Tony's shoulder lightly in acknowledgement. Admittedly, the young man was very tired. So when Tony laid his head on his shoulder and kept it there throughout the rest of the movie, it was all he could do not to turn towards him and hold him and kiss him senseless. Instead, he focused on the warmth and breathed in the scent of Tony's hair…

In short, they had been spending a very pleasant evening until someone knocked insistently at the door.

He cursed, earning himself a chuckle from Tony, who reluctantly straightened up. He got up, walked towards the door, stopped, turned around, started to say something, but then the knocking started again in earnest.

He walked to the door like an automat, and tried to open it, before he remembered he had locked it the previous day, like he did every day since he had changed the locks.

Locked it so that The Bitch… or… Hollis ? (Hollis who was supposed to be in Hawaii, supposed to have given up on him) – could not walk on him in a… compromising situation. Just like now.

He sighed and fished the key through his pocket before opening.

'Hi Hollis. Thought you were in Hawaii. I was gonn-'

'So this is how it is.'

'Hollis, I-'

'You don't even open your door for me. You don't answer your cell. Why? Do I already belong to your past?'

'You know you don't. Not really. It's just-'

'Yeah. I perfectly understand. You'd rather tend to your incapacitated playmate than-'

'Tony's not incapacitated. And he's not my playmate. And how did you know about that anyway?'

To think he had been in the mood to 'play' minutes before that – not very far. He was still wary of Tony's reaction. But perhaps, he fancied, he would have tilted Tony's head just so, and given him a light kiss, just lips against lips really, to let him know that if Tony was interested, it was his call… The worse that could have happened would have been that Tony would act a little weird for some time, most of it he would spend in 'isolation' in his home anyway, perhaps share uncomfortable glances for a while, but now he was almost sure the young man would not be intolerant enough to just freak out completely and complain to Jenny or accuse him of sexual harassment.

He could still feel the reassuring warmth and weight of Tony's head on his shoulder and against his cheek. It felt good. Right. It felt wonderful. It felt like home.

But Hollis was still talking and it took him away from these wonderful sensations.

'- Than talk to me. So tell me. Is it pity or guilt, that you feel, Jethro? I'm sure 'Tony' would just love that, were he aware enough to hear about it or sober enough to process it.'

'I care for my own, Hollis. You know that.'

'Yeah. I can see that. So I am not one of your own, am I?'

'That's different, Hollis. He needs me, just now, and you –'

'Don't need you? Don't give me that shit, Jethro. You know I need you and yet –'

Tony was so very pale against the dark shade of the sofa. Jethro gave him an apologetic glance, before staring at his (ex) girlfriend.

'Let's talk about this outside, okay?'

'Ah okay. So you have to-'

'Outside…'

Hollis stared at him. Hard. But at last, she sighed, shaking her head.

'Right. Outside.'

He followed her out and closed the door, before taking her by the elbow so that she would not scream her heart out just outside the door, where Tony could still hear them.

'What were you thinking, Hollis?'

'You kidding? Jethro, what do you think you're doing?'

'I'm trying to protect my team, Hollis. Tony is being hunted, as well you know, apparently. And I want to protect him.'

'By sheltering him in your own home?? Oh, that's rich.'

'He needs someone to look after him.'

'So you had handles installed in your bathroom so that he can take a crap?'

'As a matter of fact, yes, I did.'

'And those locks and windows changed so that nobody can come in anymore?'

'Overdue.'

'Yeah, I bet it was. You did not give a shit who could come in your house before you had to shelter that… boy.'

'Hollis… Listen-'

'Not when we were together. Damn it, you wouldn't even close the door when we were fucking. So that your goddamned team could reach us if need be. I'm sure you got off thinking your Tony would walk in on us some day.'

'Hollis…'

'No. No. You listen. You just listen. You never did, so now you listen.'

'I did, Hollis. I really did.'

'So. What if I tell you I think going away was a mistake and I want back in?'

Gibbs gave a bitter laugh.

'You're telling me you want back into my life when you steered clear away from me, months ago, without a fucking good bye??'

'Oh please, don't give me that shit. You left your dear team without saying much more.'

'My team never asked me when I would ask for their hand in marriage.'

'Oh, and you really have to throw that into my face, do you?'

'I don't know why you came here, Hollis. I thought we were done. That is what I deduced from the article in the newspaper. '

'Told you. I want to take up what we had when I left.'

Gibbs stared at her for a while. Who was she kidding?

'Well I don't want to. I don't think there is something left…'

'But why?'

'Why now, Hollis? Need to have my wits about me. I don't want to have any member of my team hurt because I'm concentrating too hard on not pissing you off.'

'What?? And why should I be pissed off? You're not even trying, Jethro.'

'No, I'm not. 'Cause, right now, I don't want to try.'

Gibbs stared at her for a while and felt a little guilty at the startled and betrayed look on his face. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face tiredly.

'Listen. I know what you need, Hollis, and it's not I.'

'You're wrong! I need you… I l-'

'You need a man who is retired. Who does not risk his life in the field every single day. You need a man who doesn't fear to get involved and to get hurt. You need a man who'll care for you every minute of every day. You need his undivided attention. You need to be able to reach him on a whim, whenever you want, and you need him to be ready to answer his phone. I can't give you that. I just can't. I love my job, Hollis. I love my life as it is. And I care for my team. You know I really like you… You'll just… never have my undivided affection…'

'So it's what I thought. You love your job better than me. Or rather, you love "someone" better than me. I thought your first wife and daughter held you back. Now I think there might be… someone else…'

Gibbs did not answer. He clenched his jaw instead. It sounded terrible. He _was_ a real bastard. Hollis was hurt and he knew it. After all, she had the right to be happy. But Tony was lying in the sofa, needing his help, and he could not let him down. And he had things to discuss with him.

'Why did you… You knew… Why let me think I could have you?' Hollis spoke up again.

'Because I thought you could.'

'It's that simple for you, huh? Let me think you love me, so you can have your woman to come home to when you want to, not every day, because of your fucking boat, and your fucking crime scenes… Four months ago I thought you'd buy me a ring. Thought we could build something together. Other than your "ship", of course. Thought you'd stop me from stepping away from your life. But you never thought of it, did you? It didn't even cross you mind, did it?'

'It did, Hollis, but things have changed and…'

'You bet. What has changed? You all know there is a risk whenever you're on the job. Or even outside. DiNozzo gets hurt? So? What's the big deal? You told me he survived the plague. I'm sure he can survive a lil' bullet. From what I've heard, already has. And it's not exactly as if he was dying.'

'Three. Three bullets he took for me and the team. And if you know so much, you certainly remember he also saved my fucking life, last week? Risking an infection to his damaged lungs?'

'Well you would have done the same for him. And if he had watched your six better, you would not have half drowned. And nearly taken a bullet yourself. Now I'm not going to pay for his incompetence. Whatever you think of his 'skills'.'

She had spat the word as if she was undermining Tony's efficiency and dedication to his work, and that pissed Gibbs off because not only was it insulting to his agent, but to him as well since he had been the one who had recruited him.

'Enough, Hollis.'

'You know, you may be his superior, but you're not mine. It doesn't work that way. We're in a relationship, Gibbs. DiNozzo is a big boy. You know he'll do well as the team leader because you put 

him there for three months. So either you want to live with me, and you quit your job, or you want to live with them and we don't see each other anymore. Understood?'

'We _were_ in a relationship, Hollis. You know, when you put it like that, I really don't have much of a choice. The decision is not that hard to take. If there still is a decision to take, because you took it for me four months ago, remember?'

'Come on, Gibbs, even you can do better than that. _They_ need you? Don't make me laugh. You're willing to stay another ten years for them? Hey, good, but you know, little Tony over there, and your dear David and McGee will not retire as soon as you will. I'm sure DiNozzo is dying to get his team back. And what a show of respect! I mean, if you don't trust him enough with your team…'

'You know it's not like that.'

'Well, sounds like it, to me.'

'You don't understand, Hollis.'

'Exactly. I can't understand why you seem ready to sacrifice what we have for them.'

'What we had. We ceased to have what we had when you walked away from me.'

Hollis stared at him through narrowed eyes, clenching her jaw. Hard.

'Is that it, then?'

'Yeah. What we had was good. But I really don't think we can make it work now.'

She said nothing for a while, trying to buy time so that he would show some sort of remorse and say that he would think about it.

But he wouldn't. He knew he could not ignore what he felt for Tony anymore.

His relationship with Hollis was officially over.

Catching sight of Tony a few minutes later was pure relief. He even stopped at the doorway to have a proper look at him before he locked the door. Now Hollis was truly out of the picture, he felt bolder. And the fact that Tony had not rejected him gave him some (tiny) measure of hope. He still did not know whether Tony swung that way, but he had yet to scramble off to avoid contact and that was enough for him now.

Tony looked at him expectantly. As Gibbs did not answer anything, his agent spoke up.

'So boss… What was it between you and Mann?'

Gibbs went to his cabinet and filled himself a glass of bourbon, flashing Tony a lopsided grin.

'Hollis and I? It was just… a little bit of plumbing.'

Tony winced.

'Oooh boss, that was gross… Even for me!'

Gibbs chuckled, eyeing Tony's deliciously flushed face with relish.

'Well I did change the plumbing at her home.'

Tony was still giving him a suspicious look, but did not comment.

'Want anything to drink?'

'Mmh… a beer if you don't mind.'

'That's fine.'

Gibbs fetched a beer from the kitchen and opened it, giving it to Tony, who was watching him with a speculative face.

'Spill it', the ex-Marine said, sitting down by his beloved agent.

'Boss, it's kinda… personal. I don't think you want to know what is in my head right now…'

'Let me be the judge of that. Spill it.'

Tony took a deep breath.

'So, why did Colonel Mann come here for?'

'Apparently she heard you had been shot and would be living here for a while. So she came here to bitch about it.'

'I thought you'd broken up and she'd gone to Hawaii...'

'We hadn't broken up. But yeah, I believed that too.'

'Oh…'

Did Gibbs imagine it, or had Tony sounded a bit… disappointed, just now? He did not have the time to say anything, because the younger man was already flashing him a bright smile.

'Well, that's good, I guess. I mean, I wouldn't want you to interrupt your love affairs just because I am staying downstairs… You seem to care a great deal and-'

'Tony, it's over.'

The young man blinked.

'What?'

'Hollis and I. It's over. It has been since the day she went to Hawaii. But we've just made it official.'

Tony was livid. He was staring at him with his huge green eyes, tried to say something that he kept for himself, before blinking and articulating slowly.

'I'm sorry, boss… I didn't think I was that much of a burden to y-'

'Don't apologize, Tony. Besides, there is nothing you have to apologize for. And you're not a burden. Far from it.'

'But if I wasn't here Mann w-'

'Would what, Tony? Tell me what's right for me to feel?'

Suddenly, he was practically shouting at Tony and saw him wince. That calmed him down immediately. He was so tired. He did not want to hurt the younger man. If only he knew…

'Listen. It's been a long, hard day, with a bad ending. I just…'

He sighed.

'I guess you were wrong, DiNozzo. Lost your bet. Never turned out to be my ex-wife. At least I didn't marry her, this time. She should be grateful.'

Tony looked like he was blaming himself still, though. And somehow, perhaps the fact that Gibbs did not sound – and worse, feel – as bitter or sad as he should have sounded did not help Tony to feel less guilty. Perhaps that was the reason why he was gazing so intently at his hands, just now. Gibbs ran a hand through his own hair, and sat down next to Tony, patting him lightly, companionably on the back, trying to ignore the pang of hurt he felt at sensing Tony's muscles stiffen under his touch.

'And you see, she was the one who left me in the end, once again.'

'You might as well have thrown her out, boss.'

'You think so? Yeah, well, it wouldn't have worked out between the two of us…'

'But you were so… similar…'

'Perhaps if I want to look at myself when I have sex or when I hold someone in my arms, I can just use a mirror or something…'

Tony tensed once more, still refusing to meet his gaze. Gibbs did not know what he had done so wrong that Tony would shunt away from him. His hand was still on Tony's back, rubbing slow circles, as he observed his Senior Field Agent in silence.

'Why?' Tony said at last.

'Why what?'

'Why did you let her go?'

It was nearly a whisper. Gibbs took his time before answering. Too much was at stake here to spoil it all by rushing the issue.

'I… don't really know.'

Well, that was not exactly true, but Gibbs had not planned for Tony's love affair turning out to be an undercover work that had developed on Tony's side into something more complex, laced with grief and guilt and love as well – and that hurt him, because even if he did not deserve it, or return it, he wanted all of Tony's love and attention.

'Why didn't you leave with Jeanne?' he asked instead.

Tony managed a sad smile and looked up at him, catching his unguarded eyes for a moment. He frowned, no doubt pondering about what he thought he saw in that gaze, but Gibbs had put up his mask back on, quickly enough. As he had told Kate so many years ago – or so it seemed – eyes could lie.

Tony seemed to decide he would not have his answer and sighed.

'I… really thought about leaving. I had my resignation letter ready – just in case. You know my history. I love NCIS, but I loved the police as well… So I know I stayed in your team a long while, but… Professionally, it wouldn't have stopped me… Not really… just…'

He sighed.

'What we had was all a lie. I had… feelings for her. But you can't love someone properly when you feel guilty all the time.'

'You shouldn't have fallen in love at all…'

Well, that shouldn't have sounded so possessive, nor so abrupt.

'The fuck? You know better than anyone you can't help whom you fall in love with.'

_Ohhh so I do_, Gibbs thought. But he said nothing.

'Hell, Gibbs. I know I fucked up big time. But you know what? Stockholm Syndrome? Yeah I know, that was not quite it, but she was the victim in that affair, Gibbs. You know what it feels like to touch someone whom you're lying to? How guilty you feel? I was trapped, and she was the victim from the minute Jenny asked me to do it. _And_ she was pretty, brilliant, smart… Try spending most of your free time with a girl like her, Gibbs. Most of your free time. Whole nights, by her side. _She_ gave me warmth. One year. Do you know how many hours that represents? And all the time, I could speak to no one – and not her – and you weren't there… _You_ were not there… And I couldn't _stand_ having to lie to you even if I had orders but in any case – you. Were. Not. There… Try that, and tell me you wouldn't feel something for her. Perhaps I just _wanted_ to feel something for her.'

He tilted his head up defiantly and Gibbs had to close his eyes for a second, hiding behind his 'Whatever' mask, before adding something.

'So?'

_So_. He could not trust himself to say more.

'So I figured I'd go with the flow… Dammit, Gibbs…'

Tony seemed about to break. He knew he wanted to say something, something more, something personal. Gibbs could feel it. Had he lost that much of Tony's faith in him that Tony could not confide in him anymore?

But he couldn't afford to lose Tony. So, in a gesture that surprised Tony as much as it surprised him, he crooked his arm around the younger man's neck and pulled him towards himself, flush against his chest. He felt Tony stiffen, hold his breath, his heart race as fast as his own, bewildered, no doubt, but when he rubbed a reassuring hand on his back, shushing him softly by dropping what was not-so-much-of-a-kiss on his hair, he felt Tony give in, his tense body crumpling completely, his arms reaching tentatively to wrap around his waist. When Gibbs did not reject him, Tony pressed tighter, sighing in a way that almost sounded like a sob. Gibbs' emotions ran too wild for him to really assess what was going on. In that instant, he did not dare to hope. Would not dare. And it was not safe yet. Not with the woman running around trying to kill them both. To kill his Tony.

Hell he would have her hide before she could do more harm.

He disentangled himself from Tony's hug and smiled at him, running a hand through the young man's hair in a gesture of affection.

'You should go to bed, Tony. You should get some rest.'

Tony sighed and nodded.

'Alright. Just help me into the wheelchair, please…'

He did so, trying very hard to keep his hands to himself – and not down Tony's pants –, helped him up, helped him into his room, helped him disrobe and dress – something Tony was not comfortable with for some reason, but Gibbs knew he would not have liked Mike to see him practically naked all the time. It was bad enough that Tony insisted on taking his bath all alone, and deal with his underpants on his own, though given the muffled curses he would hear from the kitchen when Tony was trying to bathe or dress, it sounded as difficult as it must have been painful.

'Good night, Tony.'

'Good night, Gibbs. Just… Boss…'

Gibbs stopped, and turned towards the young man, giving him a mock annoyed stare.

'Sleep, Tony. You need it.'

'No, no, just listen. You know… Mann… I think… Well… She doesn't know what she misses…'

Tony's gaze did not quite meet his, staring at his eyebrows instead, like every time Tony did not feel particularly confident.

Gibbs felt warmth spreading through his belly at the implications those innocent words could have, but it was bitter as well because he knew too well that he was probably imagining things.

He smiled at Tony, nevertheless.

'Thanks, DiNozzo. Sleep tight.'

And he shut the light, plunging Tony's world into darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Bitter End 07

Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking

Fandom: NCIS

Category: Slash

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann

Rating: PG for now (will be NC-17 later on)

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time

Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can't deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game.

Spoilers: Every season from season 1.

Warnings: Homophobia

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Thanks to Joey, who does an amazing job, for betaing this fic.

'So, boss. What is it all about? Am I gonna die or something?'

Gibbs had invited Tony at an Italian restaurant with what seemed to be no reason whatsoever. It was not Gibbs' or Tony's birthday; Tony was still in a wheelchair most of the time; they hadn't just closed a case – or that case for that matter – and were not closer to closing it since the day Tony had been shot at.

So to the Senior Field Agent, it really was a wonder that Gibbs had invited him, that evening…

'What?' Gibbs protested. 'No! Unless there's something you're not telling me…'

The suddenly worried look in Gibbs' eyes was strangely satisfying. Tony felt warmth spreading in his belly.

'Nope. Just that… You know. It's not like you invite me to dinner all that often. I mean, You hardly ever buy me coffee, so… And well, as far as I know, after almost three years of working for you, the first time I saw you buy someone coffee – that is, except Abs of course – was for Kate… And I know you did that because you were upset because you were having nightmares about her.'

Gibbs blinked. There was no possible way…

'How can-'

Tony looked triumphant. He grinned, the strange, affectionate gleam in his eyes illuminating his whole face.

'You had dark circles under your eyes at the time. You snapped at everyone. The only one you were decent to was Kate. Put two and two together, and well, I guessed you didn't not sleep much, or at least properly… And given the rise in your obsession of Ari… Well…'

He shrugged his shoulders. Gibbs had to smile. He himself had barely been aware of his own… discomfort. Well, obviously he did not feel well, but he didn't know it showed, or that someone cared enough to even be aware of it. Tony had always been able to read him like a book. He was observing him – checking on his temper because of his survival instinct, perhaps – but Gibbs liked to think he genuinely cared for his well-being. Aside from the fact that you had to be able to assess your partner's state to react in time if a change of mood impairs his abilities. Because as far as he knew, McGee, Kate and Ziva had never been able to interpret his slightest mood swings, give a correspondence to his tiniest emotions and act accordingly. Tony always dared to infuriate him when he was a little depressed or moody, so that he could vent his anger and focus on a single person and not ruin a case because he couldn't concentrate; he always knew what to say or what look to give him to make him know he was there, and cared.

Like that one time, right after Pacci's death, when Gibbs was feeling responsible for his colleague's murder, angry because he could not find a lead, apprehensive because of the barbarity of the murder. His temper had been rising steadily, culminating at the end of the day, and all Kate had done, not even thinking a second about the fact that he was grieving for someone who was like a friend to him, was bitch about her having to work while she had plans, her priority being her phone call. He had felt so dejected that he had snapped at Tony too, a hint of his jealousy showing through, but Tony had given him _that_ look and spoken softly, letting him know in one simple gaze that he cared, that he was genuinely sad too, that he felt grieved both for Pacci and for him.

Tony was compassionate. One of his best qualities and worse weaknesses.

But that day, though he was still feeling miserable, he had felt a ripple of something warm wash over him. As if Tony had helped him reach a degree of peace. Peace so intense, in fact, that he had had to close his eyes to feel the overwhelming wave of calm – and gratefulness – wash over him, even for a second.

And today, Tony had proved how perceptive Gibbs had always suspected him to be. And how closely he paid attention to Gibbs' emotions. He was not sure anybody even at work gave him that much credit.

Tony was looking at him with a smile on his face and something akin to amused adoration in his eyes. Gibbs had to resist the urge to reach across the table and take Tony's hand to stroke it. Strangely, in this almost intimate atmosphere, it felt like the right thing to do.

But he couldn't. They couldn't. If he gave in…

He broke the silence, offering Tony a teasing smile.

'Am I that aloof? That you think I don't care enough to take you out to dinner from time to time?'

'Nope. But generally, there has to be something. Like me nearly dying from the plague, or Kate dying, or me being in jail… And you're not the kind to show off your incapacitated 'friend' just for the fun of it.'

There was some sort of melancholy in his voice and Gibbs knew that Tony had not healed. That he would never heal.

Well, he would never heal either. But Gibbs wanted to help. He needed to. Make Tony feel better. Make him happy. Why couldn't he? Because of rule 12? Because some people at work were narrow-minded bastards that frowned upon homosexuality and nepotism? Tony had proved to be a very valuable asset to NCIS, with or without his boss' guidance… Gibbs knew that Fornell _would_ give him a job if he were to lose his job here. Tony only had to ask. If he did lose it. Sure, Jenny – among others – would not take too kindly to him entering a serious relationship with Tony. But he didn't really think she would go as far as that.

He shook his head. Why those questions? They didn't have answers. And Tony had no reason to have any interest in him. Or love him, for that matter. As his boss, and even as a fellow human being, Gibbs surely had not made his life an easy one – hell, if anything, he relished in making it even worse.

Once more, he felt the urge to reach out and stroke Tony's fingers. Instead, he smiled, curling said fingers around his own body in a desperate attempt not to let Tony know he needed to hold him. The younger agent smiled in return.

'You know, I could get used to it. The calm without the storm, I mean. 'Tis strange, but… I don't even want to do something or talk about something… It's… Peaceful… You know?'

Tony seemed to be having a hard time to put his thoughts into words. He seemed to be avoiding his gaze – like a shy young woman on her first _rendezvous_. Which was particularly pleasant, but particularly dangerous. But at the moment, Gibbs did not give a damn. He had never felt so good 

in his entire life – except, perhaps, the day Kelly was born – and would not let the realization that he was entertaining an illusion hamper the most beautiful day of his life.

He was feeling the peace Tony was talking about. His fingers were itching for a little bit of Tony's skin, and there was a bitter undertone to the atmosphere, that he knew he would feel more strongly later, when he would be in his bed, alone… But for now, he was content. It felt good. It felt right.

He wanted it to feel even more right. He longed to be closer. To touch. To smell. To stroke. To kiss. To make love. To make him his.

But despite the gentle (timid?) look Tony was giving him, despite his fleeing glances and the nervous twitches of his mouth as he was trying not to smile too obviously – the perfect blushing virgin, though Tony would kill him if he knew he was entertaining those thoughts – well…

Irresistible. But he kept his hands to himself, and Tony did the same, and in the sacred silence they shared, he felt the illusion of being closer to Tony than the two lovers they had passed on their way, making out on a public bench. As if a glimpse into Tony's eyes allowed him to see all the way into the young man's soul…

'You coming as well, boss?'

Tony sounded bewildered as he looked.

It was the day of the award ceremony and Gibbs was all dressed up, whistling – whistling!! – and it looked as if he was… Well… impatient. Even somewhat excited. Or eager. He was grinning from ear to ear without even being able to stop himself.

They had been 'living together' for a little over a month, and even though Tony was getting a little more autonomy, and had been given crutches to try out because he was becoming restless and had threatened the doctors to try and walk without them (under the pretence that he had to keep his muscles working if he did not want to risk atrophy), it still was painful and straining, so he still used the wheelchair most of the time.

Tony looked positively freaked out, and Gibbs smirked at him, and at the rest of the team. Ziva was frowning, trying to figure out whether it was the end of the world, McGee kept his distance, and tried not be too obvious with his staring, Palmer gave Ducky, who tagged along with a hyper 

Abby, an inquisitive gaze, one that the legist ignored in favour of trying to decipher Gibbs' uncharacteristic good mood as well.

'Are you drunk, Jethro?' he asked cautiously.

'What? Oh no. Don't worry. I feel great.'

'Well, you look great indeed… I've not seen you look that dashing since the day you married your fourth wife… That reminds me of the day-'

Gibbs just shook his head. Tony was still looking at him, two wrinkles creasing his brow as he was trying to figure out what was going on. Gibbs smiled at him, and Tony's face fell, his eyes widening. The Boss snorted and turned.

'Come. I don't wanna be late for the first award ceremony ever I'll be attending.'

He ignored the looks his people exchanged behind his back and strolled off towards the room where Jenny was holding her ceremony.

When Jenny called his name a little later, politely clapping and smiling, Tony was too stunned to move. He was gaping, staring at the podium, then at his boss, trying to process what was happening, and though Gibbs enjoyed every bit of it, as did Abby, apparently, who was jumping all over the place, shrieking and hugging Tony and Gibbs and the rest of the team as if she had been given the award herself, he decided to put him out of his misery. He leaned towards his agent, proudly, and whispered.

'Go, Tony. You've deserved it.'

'Is that a joke? If it is, it's not funny', Tony blurted out.

'No Tony, it's not a joke. You deserve every bit of this. And go before she decides to give it to me instead…'

'You knew…', Tony accused, grinning at him and blushing with pleasure.

'Yeah, I knew. Now, go get your prize. Make me proud…'

Tony opened his mouth to say something, looked down, and then back up at him, grinning cheekily.

'On it, Boss.'

McGee was already handing him the crutches he had been trying for the last four days, without much success, and was readily helping him up, letting Tony grip his shoulder to get up.

It didn't take him long to get on the podium and though his brow shone with perspiration at the effort, Tony was grinning madly, searching Gibbs in the crowd and smiling at him, eyes sparkling with delish as Jenny gave him the award. When he was given a mike, Tony thanked everybody before he started to speak for himself.

'Well, I must say, this is a surprise… I really didn't think I'd be here today… For myself, I mean.'

People laughed. And Tony laughed as well. Gibbs hid his mouth behind his hand, as he was grinning himself, and biting his bottom lip.

'So thanks. I really appreciate it. I… uh… Had prepared a lil' speech for my boss over here' – he waved a sheet of paper in his direction – 'but well… I guess I can't deliver it, now, can I?'

'Well, you can always alter it', said Jenny, stepping next to him before she said: 'And now, for being the best agent in the whole agency for the last five years, please a round of applause for Special Agent Gibbs, who decided to show up this time…'

People clapped politely, but whispered among one another…

Gibbs saw Tony's face fall and pale slightly, a pained expression flashing through his eyes as if Jenny had slapped him, and he felt anger rising in his chest. His gaze hardened in seconds as he saw Tony drop his gaze and look right and left at the floor but avoiding the crowd at all cost, trying to keep a firm grip on his crutches and keep the award that was suddenly too much in his hands at the same time…

He was apparently trying to figure out how the hell he would climb down the stairs and could not. He looked ill. Gibbs realized something. He blanched.

'Duck, tell me', he said, leaning towards his friend. 'Are there that many steps, usually?'

'Well, I did think the podium was higher than usual, but I thought it was because Tony is not yet used to his crutches… You think… No… Jenny would never…'

Gibbs saw red. He didn't answer.

After not moving for a good five seconds, he stood up, knocking off his chair, and stormed up the aisle, put his hands on Jenny's hips, ignoring her wriggling and protests, to make her climbed down, took her unceremoniously by the arm and pulled her towards the nearest side exit before anyone could react.

He shut the door and started shouting.

'WHAT THE HELL D'YA THINK YOU'RE DOING?'

Jenny tilted her chin upward, smoothing her dress.

'Trying to congratulate you for a job well done. What do you think I was doing?'

'God! I can't believe this!'

Gibbs was still shouting; but he had stopped yelling.

He looked at her, hard.

'So that's how things are gonna be, huh?'

They stared at one another for a while, and Jenny sighed, leaning against a desk.

'You didn't expect me not to give you anything for once I could reward you for the things you do for us… did you?'

Gibbs was still glaring.

'I'm only doing my job.'

'Like Tony.'

'Yeah. Exactly. So he deserved this as much as I do.'

'You know it's not entirely true.'

'We won't go over that again, will we?'

He thought back at the conversation they had a little while back. No. He would not go over that again with her.

'_Excuse me… Director?'_

_Jenny looked up from the papers she was skipping through and smiled at him._

'_Hello Jethro.'_

_Gibbs closed the door behind him while Jen was taking off her glasses, putting them down carefully on the desk. _

'_What can I do for you?'_

'_I know the… ceremony for the award of the Agent of the Year is coming soon.'_

_Jenny smirked. _

'_And? You want to tell me you won't attend, Jethro? Well, that's just polite. At least I will not have to bear the humiliation I had the first time you sent your… boy to fetch it for you.'_

_Gibbs rolled his eyes. _

'_No. I've come to tell you I 'will' attend, on one condition.'_

'_And what is it, Jethro?'_

'_That you give it to Tony.'_

_Jenny stared at him as if he had grown a second head._

'_You're joking, right?'_

'_You told me yourself that he did a great job while I was away…'_

'_Well, he did, but it does not mean that he earns that price… You're the lead agent, now.'_

'_Come on. You know how much it means to the kid. You know he needs some official recognition, from time to time. And you know he earns it. He's done a great job. He saved my live – several times. And the lives of other agents. He's been instrumental in the closure of most cases we had, and has been since he set foot in NCIS.'_

'_Well, so were Ziva and McGee. Perhaps I should give them an award, too… And he's supposed to have your six. That's his job. That's what he does. You know you would have done it for him as well.'_

_Gibbs could not believe what he was hearing._

'_He sacrificed a whole year of his life in an undercover mission you assigned him, without back up – 'cause I don't think you'd come and rescue him when you where dining with the President – and he could have died and we would have never learnt about it.'_

'_Well, he's done his job. And a good job at it too. But fruitless. Wasn't it? We still don't know where La Grenouille is… I did not force Agent DiNozzo into that mission, Special Agent Gibbs. And don't tell me he didn't enjoy fucking Jeanne Benoît…'_

_Gibbs knew he should keep his temper in check, but this was starting to be very difficult._

'_I can't believe it', he growled. 'How do you think he felt, being asked to fuck that girl? Like a common whore??'_

'_He loves women.'_

'_Yeah. He loves women. In plural. And what did you do when his cover was blown – and you knew it would come to this one day – you just told him he was wrong to feel something for the girl, that it was a mistake as an agent.'_

'_Well it is. And don't you deny it, you know that better than anyone.'_

_Gibbs just shook his head. _

'_You know I don't like it when you do that.'_

'_Do what?'_

'_What you're doing.'_

'_And it is?'_

'_Using my rules and my past experiences against me and my team.'_

'_It is not against you and your team, Special Agent Gibbs. I was being practical. He was not ordered to fall for the girl.'_

'_Fucking one girl – only one – for nearly a whole year… Come on, Jenny. Even you know what it is to be "human".'_

'_He failed his mission.'_

'_AND WHOSE FAULT WAS IT??'_

_Red with anger, Gibbs had stood up abruptly, leaning forward, menacingly, using his height over the Director to tower above her, fury blazing in his ice-blue eyes._

'_YOU pissed off the C.I.A. YOU assigned the mission. YOU gave him his alias. YOU did not make sure it was safe enough for it not to be broken into by any other fucker the guy was friendly with. YOU are responsible. And don't you DARE deny it, because as far as I know, YOU are the Director of this fucking agency.'_

'_You're going too far, Special Agent Gibbs.'_

'_HE was involved more than he should? Hell, look at you, Jen. You were involved far deeper than him. From the beginning.'_

'_That's rich, coming from you, Jethro', she said sweetly._

'_At least I TRIED not to involve my agents anymore than I had to.'_

'_Well, that failed, didn't it?'_

'_Ducky, Gerald and Kate were involved since the beginning. And Abby to some degree. That was different.'_

'_Oh, come on, Jethro. We both know that Ari went after 'your women'. Don't we? You could have lost me too. Maybe if he had succeeded he would have come after Tony and McGee before he got to you…'_

_That hurt. He really did not think it could come to this. He thought – Well. He did not know what to think anymore. He shook his head. He did not know what had made Jenny so pissed off lately. She was always bitching at details. Especially when Tony did something wrong. Or he did. _

_He straightened up, sighing._

'_Don't give me the award, Director. I won't accept it. Give it to Tony.'_

_Jenny was still glaring at him, a muscle playing in her cheek as she clenched her teeth. _

_He shook his head once more and was heading towards the exit when Jenny called out to him._

'_You still remember your rules, don't you? Remember rule 12?'_

_Gibbs froze, and turned towards her._

'_What??'_

'_Don't act like you don't understand, Jethro.'_

'_You're insinuating that I'm having a relationship with Tony, Jen?' he said, unbelieving. _

_She did not answer, but raised her eyebrows defiantly. Gibbs let out a bark of laughter._

'_I care for my own, Director. You know that. Tony's been hurt. Because of me. He needs help. And I'm not letting him go back to that flat of his. He can't climb up the stairs with his arm in a sling and his thighbone in smithereens.'_

'_You could have left him in the hospital. Bethesda would take good care of him.'_

_Gibbs closed his eyes._

'_Stop.'_

'_What?'_

'_Stop it.'_

'_You care for him. Don't you?'_

'_Of course I care, dammit! He's part of my team! He's one of the best field agents of this whole agency! McGee and Ziva are good too, but they don't have his experience yet and they don't feel things as he does… You may like to think he's shallow sometimes, but if you had known what I know, you'd have given your stupid assignment to another agent…'_

'_Come on, Jethro. He was the best for the job because yes, he's got some talent. But also because he's fucked more women than Casanova and that he knows how to captivate them. And don't try to deny that you want him. I've seen how you look at him.'_

'_Come again?'_

'_I've seen how you look at him. It's not the way you look at McGee. Or Ziva. Not at all.'_

'_So what?'_

'_It's the way you used to look at me in Paris, Jethro.'_

_Jethro shook his head. He wanted to laugh it off. It was utterly ridiculous. He smirked, narrowing his eyes._

'_Oh I can assure you it's not. We were undercover, remember? I had to act the part…'_

_Sheppard blanched at that and started to say something but he cut her._

'_You were my partner, and I care for you, but still I could not trust you totally. And I was damned right not to.'_

'_Jethro you know it was for-'_

'_No. No I don't. Tony I trust with my life. Always have. And he's always proved me right.'_

'_So far.'_

'_I've worked with him for seven years, Jen.'_

'_And he managed not to have your six on the Cape Fear. Remember?'_

'_I asked him to stay away. I took the risk to follow that fucker even though it wasn't the__ original plan. He has nothing to do with it. Don't you dare imply the contrary.'_

'_Why are you defending him, Jethro?'_

'_Because I have his six', he said. He paused for a moment, before he added: 'Give him the award, Jen. He's deserved it.'_

'_You know you can't be in a relationship with him, Jethro. It would never work out.'_

'_Dammit, Director, I told you there was nothing between the two of us.'_

'_Well, keep it that way.'_

_Gibbs let out a bark of laughter._

'_Or what? You'll fire me? Come on, you know you need me in the agency.'_

'_You're sounding awfully full of yourself.'_

'_Well, you wouldn't have put me on… what was that? "Vacation leave"? when I retired? Would you? I mean, if you did not value my worth as an agent.'_

'_Every agent here is expendable. One day you'll be too old for the job and I'll have to replace you.'_

'_I can't believe you're saying this. That you don't care what happens to your agents as long as the agency is running.'_

'_Well I do. Care, I mean. But that's not my job. And I don't let it interfere.'_

'_Yeah. That's why you became a Director and I am still an agent.'_

'_You don't understand, Jethro. If I got too involved with each one of them-'_

'_Morrow was not "involved". But he cared. He let us do our job, because he trusted us. But we knew he cared. Why d'you think he accepted that 'promotion', huh? Strange coincidence, isn't it? With the loss of an agent to a fucker from Hamas who was under the protection of all the other agencies?'_

'_I'm not…'_

'_No you're not. And the first thing you tried to do when you stepped into this office was try to dissuade me from going after Ari because obviously you trusted a girl who saved your life once more than you trusted me.'_

'_Are you jealous, Jethro?'_

'_You wish. I'm just saying that Morrow did his job and let us do ours. But you tried to get your filthy hand on the cases as soon as you were in function. By doing that, you got 'involved' with the people who work under you.'_

'_Nicely put, Jethro.'_

'_Hey. Do you think that Morrow would have been as obsessed by a personal cause to completely forget that he had a missing agent whom a minute before was presumed dead?'_

_Gibbs stared at her, hard._

'_You can't use people as pawns for your own selfish little vendettas and dispatch them as if they'd done nothing. Yeah, I was in too deep in the Ari case. It may have been a mistake. But I was trying to protect my people, not expose them. You exposed Tony for no good reason-'_

'_Jethro…'_

'_You exposed him for no good reason.'_

_The director rolled her eyes._

'_You did not provide real back up for him. You did not protect him from the CIA. Don't tell me you saw the look on that guy's face – smug. He knew Tony's __car was trapped__. He knew it. The only thing you cared about at the time was a pissing contest with that bastard and the fact that we had lost La Grenouille. The only regret you had was when you thought Tony was dead. Because of you. And as soon as we knew the body was not his – which by the way did not mean he was alive – the only thing you cared about was that man. It's bad enough that you used Ducky as well. He had no training for undercover missions – he could have blown his cover at any moment. Nearly did. And the only excuse you gave me for this was that I had done it for Ari. Well no. I didn't. Not willingly. I can assure you of this. And I did not use my status as a team leader to place somebody undercover with no back up. But you used your status as a Director to do it.'_

_He took a deep breath and straightened up, glaring down at Jenny who was glaring back. It irked Gibbs to think that he had 'flirted' with that woman. And that his first thoughts when he recognized her were not of their partnership, but of a night in Paris they had spent in bed. _

'_Done, Special Agent Gibbs?'_

'_You give that medal to Tony. There's not one person in this agency who deserves it more than him this year.'_

_She did not answer anything, so he shook his head, turned back, and stormed off._

'Do you at least realize what you're doing, Jenny?'

'Well, I was only trying to give you an award. You deserve it.'

'Deserve… deserve… That's all you can say? Please, Jen, you know I don't care for that shit. Now you had the possibility to make someone really happy and you throw it all just to "reward" me.'

'Oh come on, Jethro. He's not a kid any more. He's a Special Agent.'

'Yeah. He's still a human being. Did you only see his face?'

Jenny wanted to protest – Gibbs could see it. But she couldn't. She looked down, unable to look him in the eyes. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

'Look. I understand you want me to know you appreciate the results I have on the job. But they're the team's. Don't forget that.'

He looked at her a little longer. When she did not look up, he turned, and came back to the room. The first thing he noticed was the noise – people whispering all around the room. He wondered if their voices had carried through the walls during their little row.

He winced. The first few shouts certainly had.

The second thing he noticed was McGee, trying to help Tony climb down the stairs – which proved to be difficult. And since Tony was pigheaded, he had just given McGee the award to concentrate on getting down the stairs.

Gibbs felt a rush of gratefulness towards McGee, though he knew he too would have been too proud to accept help in Tony's place.

He brushed past Tony, laying a reassuring hand on his back as he did so, and walked up to Cynthia to pray the award from her hand, before he stepped to the mike.

He opened his mouth and froze. He had just realized where he was and what he was about to do. So very unlike him. And yet… He felt he had to do it.

He took a deep breath.

'You're probably wondering what the fuck is going on here. Hell, I certainly do.'

People laughed politely in the distance, but he had their undivided attention. He did not like it. It was partly why he never went to those ceremonies.

'If I was Director of the NCIS, which, fortunately, for every last one of us, I am not, I'd say every special agent, forensic specialist, or even management and security agent here has deserved this.'

He flaunted the award, looking at the crowd.

'Because every one of us has contributed to put at least one criminal behind bars, directly or indirectly. And if I had to give an award specifically, I'd give it to a whole team. But if only ONE agent had to have this award, I'd say it was Anthony DiNozzo. As his superior, I know how much he puts into his work, waiting or not waiting for congratulations he knows he'll never get 'cause I'm a bastard. When things go wrong, he's here to brighten the mood so that we don't blow up our heads with our own weapons. He also beat the holds the records of life-threatening wounds acquired in the field. And if anything, he deserves the price for putting up with me for that long.'

This got a chuckle from most of the personnel, but Gibbs did not look towards Tony.

'But since I'm not the Director, I can't do it. However, I _was_ awarded this price and – for what it's worth – I think it it's in my right to decide if I really deserve it or not. Or who does, better than me. And for the reasons I gave… Which, by all means, really are not all of them, but if I go on like this Special Agent DiNozzo will suffer apoplexy, and he's an irreplaceable asset to our agency, so I won't risk that… Well, anyway, I was saying, for the reasons I gave you, I decided to give this to the one man who really deserves it this year. And I know that our Director will soon come to realize how true this is.'

Tony was openly gaping at him, dumbfounded, as Gibbs approached him, a sheepish smile on his face. Gibbs lowered his voice, patting him on the arm.

'Close your mouth DiNozzo, and you're staring.'

People were applauding as Gibbs helped a now unresisting Tony down the stairs, up until he sat him down on the wheelchair and leaned towards his ear to whisper 'Let's go home', as people kept staring at them and he knew it would not be to his protégé's liking.

'You did not need to do that to keep me at your service, Boss… I'm not leaving you. Yes, the pay is better as a lead agent, but I intend to learn as much as I can. And as long as I can…'

'Well that's great 'cause I'm not letting you go. But I what I said, I meant. Every word of it. Now enjoy the feeling when it lasts, because I won't get soft on you, DiNozzo, that's a promise.'

Tony chuckled, blushing a little. Gibbs hoped it was from pleasure. Well, at least he could give him some measure of it somehow.

'Ya know… It's strange… But… I think I like it better when it's you who gives me the award…'

'Well, Tony… I think I-'

They had passed the doors already and were well into the corridor when a voice called after them from behind.

'Anthony?'

Gibbs saw Tony freeze and felt him tense. A second later, he was straightening up, trying to stand on his own, looking for his crutches, and leave his wheelchair.

'What the-', Gibbs started.

'Hello, Father', Tony said, interrupting him.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Bitter End 08

Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking

Fandom: NCIS

Category: Slash

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann

Rating: PG for now (will be NC-17 later on)

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time

Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can't deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game.

Spoilers: Every season from season 1.

Warnings: Homophobia

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Thanks to Joey, who does an amazing job, for betaing this fic.

Tony was standing, leaning on his crutches, and facing the man he had called 'Father'.

Gibbs stared at the man. Though he looked sober, the rosaceous staining his cheeks and nose spoke volumes of the amount of wine he was swallowing every day. The man did share physical traits with Tony, though he was far smaller and stockier; the weight he had put on with age and not working out was also different from Tony's more muscled yet leaner frame. And though Tony had the man's nose and mouth, he must have taken his lighter tone of skin, eyes and hair after his mother.

The man perspired wealth, and though Tony had told him a bit about his childhood, Gibbs realized what kind of father that man must have been like. He did not even need to look at Tony to know how stiff and straight he was standing. Money did not necessarily make people happy. And that man might not have done right by his son. Not by a long shot. Disinheriting him when he was twelve, while his mother had been dead four years before, was certainly one of the worst things that could happen to a child. It was a wonder that Tony turned out to be the man he was. Or perhaps it was not.

A stiff, lean man with teeth like a horse's and little nasty eyes stood by, watching the exchange between father and son like a vulture. He held a suitcase; Gibbs was wary of him. Something did not sit right. It was the kind of feelings he got when he had to deal with a zealous solicitor – and that man certainly was one.

Why Tony's father wanted to bring him there, however, was a wonder.

'What are you doing here?' said Tony, with a neutral voice, as his father and him had been staring at one another for what seemed an hour.

'Just coming by to say hello.'

'Bullshit and you know that.'

Both stood their ground, but though Tony had been tense from the start, his father stiffened. Perhaps he had not thought he would get that kind of welcome from his son. He stood straighter, as if he was trying to get in height the inches Tony had on him.

'It was brought to my attention that you… had had some success recently.'

'What are you talking about?'

'And that you had been shot. That's why I didn't want you to become a cop, Anthony. I didn't want you to get hurt.'

The young man had a bitter laugh.

'Oh please. We're both grown-ups. You don't have to pretend. You wanted a son to take up your business and become a shark like you and make even more money than you already do.'

'That's not true. I learnt you were shot three times and –'

'Nope. I received three bullets. Not life-threatening. A trifle compared to some of the things I've lived.'

Gibbs sensed that all the regrets that Tony had bottled up were resurfacing, and that was not good. So he stood behind him, calling his name softly, and laying a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. But Tony didn't listen.

'Always exaggerating, Anthony…'

'Yeah. You always thought that. Well, then. Almost blown up – oh – three times?'

'Come on, now…'

'Then how's the plague?'

'What are you talking about?'

'The plague. I caught the plague.'

'More like some kind of virus, certainly. You can't have had the plague. Nobody has had the plague since… well…'

'Well, you're right you know? It wasn't really the plague. It was the plague, but genetically altered to resist antibiotics.'

His father had the good grace to pale. Tony went on.

'You don't believe me? Ask him. He was there. You know, you'd have known, but you've been so busy the last four times that I had been in a near-death situation that you didn't come and sign a bunch papers, so I decided to have him as my next-of-kin…'

The man paled further and the other one frowned.

'Tony', Gibbs murmured.

'No, boss. I'm alright. Let me handle this…'

Gibbs frowned as well, but did not say anything. He was watching the solicitor's eyes which were watching them with a palpable contempt. He thought than even more than Tony's father, money had gone to his solicitor's head.

'So. I repeat my question. Why have you come? To see if I ended up in the gutter, like you told me I would? Well, don't worry, it was not the gutter. It was a sewer…'

'Anthony...'

'I received a note. Telling me you were in trouble.'

'Yeah. Obviously, someone shot me, I'm in trouble.'

'And you received an award for that.'

'I'd rather think it's because I'm damn good at what I do.'

'Maybe you are… But… I don't know. I could include you back into my testament… And you could still come and work for me.'

Tony blinked, then stared at him.

'You kidding, right?'

'Anthony, I'm getting old. I have a new wife every two year. I don't want to die and think that I had a son and pushed him away… I don't want my money to be given to those bitches I've called my wives…'

Tony's smirk was bitter once more.

'So. It's always been about money, hasn't it? What do you care I have it when I die?'

'You're my only child.'

'Your dear money would still be divided up between your ex-wives… The part of the cake would be small. Wouldn't it?'

'I'd make arrangements.'

'I'm not interested.'

'Think about it, Anthony. I know you don't have such a great pay. Your job is dangerous. You could work at an office and have bodyguards and-'

'Well… You don't know me well, do you? I hate desk work. Don't I, Boss?'

Tony turned towards Gibbs, and his leader started to say something but Tony's father interrupted him.

'Come on, Tony. Do you think you really make a difference? You've been a cop for years, now. Have the crime rates decreased drastically since you've spent time running in the streets with your toy gun? Does it make a difference, that you get shot while you work? Does it-'

'Yeah. It does. It does to me', Tony interrupted heatedly.

Gibbs saw his Adam's apple bob and his hands tremble slightly on the crutches, and he knew Tony was nearing the end of the rope.

'I save lives. It doesn't matter what happens to me, 'cause thanks to me, thanks to my people, thanks to my friends, some people are saved. Some children are returned to their parents when they were lost. Their parents who truly love them. So I think it does. If I have to take another bullet so one of the people I love doesn't get shot, hell, trust me, I'll do it.'

'There are other people who can do this. Perhaps better than you. Don't think you're irreplaceable, Anthony, because we're nothing but dust.'

Gibbs growled and before Tony could do anything, he had placed himself in front of Tony, as if to protect him from the stupidity of his father.

'Get the hell out of my sight. You're not welcome in NCIS.'

'I was not talking to you. I was talking to my son.'

'Your son is the best agent I've ever had. I'm sure when I retire and he takes over, he'll be the best asset to this agency.'

'Oh come on, now, we both know you're just trying to-'

'I'm not trying to do anything. I know what I do. I know who he is. Which apparently you don't.'

Mr. DiNozzo narrowed his eyes.

'He's not yours, you know.'

'Not exactly. He's his own person.'

'I'm his father.'

'You ceased to have the right to be anything to him the moment you disowned him. Now get out before I call the security.'

'You'll hear from me', DiNozzo Senior said.

Gibbs barked out a laugh.

'Are you threatening me?'

'No. I'm warning you. And you're insulting me.'

'Well, as far as I'm concerned, I've only told the truth. If you don't want to stick your face out of your ass to see that, it's not my problem.'

DiNozzo Senior was red in the face.

'I shall bring this conversation to the attention of your Director. You know, I'd be careful. I might not be a cop, but if you're not careful, it could be the end of your career…'

'D'ya really think I give a rat's ass about what a lousy father who begs for his son to come back just because he's received an award he could have received years ago thinks about me and tells the Director? Look at me! I could have retired. Fact is, I _have_ retired, but I was bored as hell, and I missed my people, and I didn't want to sit in my house drinking all day long and counting my money as if everything was alright when criminals were on the run…'

Tony's father stared at him with a heinous gaze, but he said nothing. Gibbs was disgusted.

'Ya know. Your son must have taken after his mother. 'Cause I really don't see anything of him in you. And I think you don't deserve him still calling you 'Father'. You don't even deserve a son like him.'

Tony was getting a little anxious. His father may not be pigheaded enough to try and hire a hit man to take out his boss, but these days, Gibbs had enough enemies as it was. And he didn't need 

a lawsuit, even though he seemed to claim he didn't care about his job. Maybe he knew what he was worth as an agent, and he knew that Jenny would never let something like this bring him down. After all, she was the one who was clever with politics.

'Father…' Tony stepped in. 'You should go. I don't want you here. I don't want to see you.'

'You can't mean that.'

'Unfortunately, I do.'

And at the grief that shone in his eyes as Tony said that, a stubborn set to his jaw, the regret that was there, Gibbs knew that Tony must have really longed for a father figure of some kind. He couldn't give that to him – not with the feelings he harboured for the young man. But he could love him. Protect him. Make him understand he was not alone. It wouldn't be easy without telling him what it was exactly he felt for the young man, but he would manage.

And perhaps, some day, Tony would love him back… And he'd hold him in bed at night, and Tony'd let him touch him, kiss him, make love to him, and he'd be the happiest man alive.

A fairy tale. But one he was desperate to live.

But Tony's father was shaking his head, sighing.

'Have it your way. But don't say I didn't try.'

He shrugged.

'Bye, then.'

'Good, bye, Father.'

The man was going already, but the lawyer was lagging behind.

'Excuse me, you have any business in here?' Gibbs said curtly, not liking at all the conspicuous grin the lank man was giving Tony.

The man smirked.

'Just admiring a fool. Not married, yet, Mr DiNozzo? You should. It could prevent people from… talking. You're lucky I didn't bring the whole note to your father's attention.'

Tony paled visibly, his own smirk vanishing.

'What the fuck are you talking about?'

'You know very well… But it'd be only polite not to say it out loud given the company you have.'

'What you have to say to me you say to him.'

'Ooh. It's how it is, then. I didn't know you really were so close…'

Tony narrowed his eyes at him.

'I don't like your allusions. Think whatever you want. I just don't buy my wives like the man I have to call 'Father' does.'

'I bet, Mr DiNozzo. Well. Congratulations for your… award.'

He bowed tightly and went. Tony waited until he disappeared, then sat down heavily on the wheelchair. He had been so hard on his muscles that the muscles in his legs twitched.

'Hey… You okay?' Gibbs asked softly, concerned, bending a little over Tony.

'Guess I'll be', he answered, but did not try to move for a while.

Gibbs was beginning to think something was seriously wrong when Tony sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, then opened them, gazing at Gibbs wonderingly, and his boss did not dare look away. After a while, a small, boyish, smile played on the younger man's lips.

'Ya know, you didn't _have_ to talk to him like that. I can defend myself in front of my own father.'

Well. Nice, Gibbs. You can pretend all you want, but he'll still see through you at times. Gibbs frowned and shrugged.

'I don't like people insinuating I don't know how to choose my own people.'

This time, Tony was grinning widely, roguish amusement dancing in his eyes, and it warmed Gibbs, especially after the tense scene that had taken place.

'Yeah, I can see that.'

Gibbs allowed himself to smile and was rewarded by a soft, and hot look in Tony's gaze that he didn't dare to place, but which had his bowels shudder in delight.

'Ah… Thanks, Boss. For everything. I don't think I'd have stood to him that long if you hadn't been there.'

'I meant it', Gibbs blurted, though he did not know why.

'What?'

_Dammit_.

'I meant it. What I said. You deserve a better father. I don't know how _he_ could produce such a fine man.'

'Well, it's a nice promotion, boss. From the brat.'

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

'I've always valued you as an agent, Tony. Otherwise you wouldn't have stayed long on my team.'

'Yeah. Kinda figured that out. Though between the whacks over the head, I think I really must be smart to have noticed.'

'Smartass.'

'Exactly. Now how about going out to chew the security agents' ass at the entry door?'

'Why? About the fact they might have taken a bribe to let your father and his lawyer in?'

'Assuming it was his lawyer, hell yeah. It's been only a month, we're stuck, and well, even though we haven't heard from The Bitch for a while, and even though they haven't beaten up any more gay guys outside that club, and though we didn't catch anyone, it doesn't mean she's not planning anything.'

'Well, she certainly is. I didn't like their allusions to a 'note' or something. I should have cuffed them both and held them in custody to ask them questions about it.'

'Come on, boss. You can't really do that…'

'I know. I'd have liked it though.'

'What stopped you?' asked Tony casually.

Gibbs studied Tony's poker face for a moment, then challenged him with raised eyebrows.

'I just got the feeling you wouldn't have liked it that much. He's still your 'biological parent', after all.'

Tony stayed silent for a moment. Then he smiled.

'You know me better than I do. Now you know what I'd like?'

'Mmh nope, but you're gonna tell me.'

'I'd like it if we went to the entrance, and you let me up so I can strike those dumbasses with my crutches, like an old woman with her cane…'

Gibbs chuckled.

'I'd love to see that…'

And though Tony still _could_ wheel himself, Gibbs pushed the wheelchair towards the elevator.

Five days later, the Director summoned both Tony and Gibbs to MTAC. They had just received news that three more gay men had been bashed outside the club. The Intel had come in just 

as they were receiving new screens for their computers. Gibbs thought it was Jenny's way of apologizing…

'You called us, Director?' asked Gibbs, actually closing the door (and not slamming it shut) behind DiNozzo, who was walking with his crutches.

'Yeah. Please, do sit down…'

She looked partly nervous. Embarrassed even. She was avoiding their gaze, with was highly uncharacteristic. Gibbs sighed.

'What is going on, Jenny?'

'I uh… think I owe you an apology', she said, looking up at them.

Gibbs said nothing for a while. Though it did not show, he knew Tony enough to feel how tense he was by his side, totally out of place. He sighed, resisting the need to reach out to comfort his subordinate by a not so discreet whack to his head. It wasn't pretty, but it worked. Just like the DiNozzo interrogation method.

'It's alright, you know apologizing-'

'Is a sign of weakness. Yes, Jethro. I know.'

She gave him a small, apologetic smile nonetheless. Then she turned towards Tony and sighed.

'I shouldn't have… tried to cheat you out of your crown. I… don't know what possessed me.'

She made a vague gesture with her arm, and sighed.

'And I should have checked with you before I meddled with your life again and tried to involve your father in the ceremony.'

'Wait – it was you who called my father?'

'Well, I told him you were about to receive an award for the NCIS… Since Jethro knew better, who else could it be?'

Tony and Gibbs exchanged a look. It did not explain everything. Especially the words that shrewd lawyer had said afterwards.

'Did you write to him?'

'No. I phoned. Is that important?'

Gibbs sighed. It would have been too easy. He rubbed his temple tiredly.

'Yeah. Why would I ask you if it was not important?'

'Oh, and Director', Tony butted in, trying to divert the conversation from the turn it was taking, 'you were not forced to buy those new computer screens… I mean, I know McGee is just about to orgasm right now, but it's a bit overkill…'

'What do you mean, Tony? What screens? What are you talking about?' Jenny asked, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Gibbs stood up abruptly.

'That's her…' he said, before turning around and heading for the bullpen.

'What does he mean, 'her'?'

'The Bitch…' Tony supplied, before he followed suit as fast as he could, on his crutches.

Sheppard wasted no time. She stood up, abruptly picked up the phone and started to bark orders… If the delivery men were still inside the building, they had to keep them inside.

Especially since the incident with Rodriguez, who was still in custody, and still had not said a word about his mysterious employer…

Gibbs was hurrying down from MTAC as McGee was about to power up Tony's computer after he made the necessary connections between the computer and the new screen.

'FREEZE McGee!' Gibbs shouted, and the younger agent did, albeit clearly puzzled.

He put up his hands in the air. Gibbs rolled his eyes.

'No need for that, McGee. Just step away from that thing.'

'What is going on, boss?'

'I don't know yet. Ziva!'

Ziva approached them, as confused as McGee was.

'Step aside, McGee. Go and see if Tony needs help to step down the stairs.'

'But-'

'Do as I tell you.'

He gave him the look that said: when I tell you to jump, you ask how many times, and McGee scurried off to where Tony was standing, trying to negotiate his stepping down the stairs.

'Were they labelled?' Gibbs asked.

'Yeah. All of them. This one was supposed to go to Tony.'

'Good.'

Gibbs was reaching for his knife. Ziva frowned.

'What-'

'You up for a little game of minesweeper, Ziva?'

'Wh- Hey, how do you know that game?'

Gibbs rolled his eyes and dumped the knife in her hand.

'Open the damned screen, Ziva. If you see anything hinky, you tell me.'

'Hinky… like a bomb?'

'More or less. Still up to it?'

Ziva shrugged, though with a hint of trepidation.

'Always.'

'Good. And you tell me if you know how to defuse it before you attempt anything. Alright?'

Ziva nodded, and Gibbs patted her shoulder.

'Good girl.'

'Wait!' said Tony from the top of the stairs, while Ziva was already working on the frame of the computer screen to tear it open.

'You stay away from this, DiNozzo…'

'But Boss –'

'You stay away, Tony', Gibbs said, turning towards his two male agents. 'That's an order. And don't you try and disobey _again_.'

Tony frowned, but he could see Gibbs was serious. It still did not convince him, so Gibbs added: 'We'll be alright.'

Tony looked doubtful for a moment, but nodded. McGee, who was supporting him, could see how tense, how worried he was – and he could understand. He did not know exactly what was going on, but he had a feeling it was something big, and if he did understand Gibbs' need to protect part of his team, he also understood why Tony was so upset. Because he felt like him. They should be there, with Ziva and Gibbs.

Ziva had pried the shell of the computer open, revealing a very flat manufactured bomb connected to the switch of the screen. The bomb did not seem very large ranging, but had McGee (or Tony) tried to switch the screen on, he would be dead. And given the amount of rusted nails they had included to the mix, the bodily damage inflected to any person in the area would have been tremendous.

'You think you can defuse it?' Gibbs asked gently as Ziva was peering inside the thing to assess the situation.

'Dealt with worse. Pliers?'

Gibbs gave her a pair of scissors instead and she frowned down at them, before she shrugged. After all, she could have used Gibbs' knife. She picked up the red thread… then switched to the green one… hesitated for a second, and, holding her breath, she clipped.

Nothing.

In fact, the whole bullpen had been holding their breath. Which was partly ridiculous, because had the bomb gone off, those who were very close to them might not have been able to breathe anymore. At all.

'Told you. Piece of biscuit', Ziva commented, with a cheeky grin.

'Cake', Gibbs rectified with a lopsided smile, as he watched an infuriated Tony go down the stairs, McGee trying to prevent him from tripping and falling down the rest of the steps. 'Good job, Ziva.'

But now Tony had reached them – he must have beaten his personal record of climbing down half of the staircase on his crutches – and without even thinking, he whacked a bewildered Gibbs over the head, before he started to shout.

'YOU! You give me a stupid order like that EVER again, I kill you myself. Ya hear??'

Gibbs frowned, straightening up, while McGee was willing himself away. Too bad they weren't on board the Enterprise…

'Now DiNozzo you-'

'No. You can tell McGee to stay away. That I understand. You can tell the whole bullpen to stay away. But if you think you don't have time to call the mine-clearing experts, and you ask Ziva instead, and you stay by to take the full brunt of it all, you allow me to stay there as well. I'm your Senior Field Agent. If the ship goes down, I go down with the ship.'

They kept staring at one another for a while, frowning ferociously, till Gibbs' face broke into a smile.

'Ya know, DiNozzo. There are times, like this, when I surprise myself by thinking you'd have made a damned fine Marine. Well. With a lot of training, of course.'

And that was it. Tony was staring at him, bewildered, eyes popping out of his head, and Gibbs tapped his chin with a finger before placing the screen back in its box to take it down to Abby.

Ziva, McGee and Tony stared after him, then at one another, the members of the other teams having long learned to keep away from the antics of the Gibbs' team.

Ziva frowned, put gloves on and bent down to pick up a tiny something that seemed to have fallen from the computer when Gibbs had lifted the screen and carried it to the laboratory.

'What's this?'

'What?' McGee asked.

'This…'

She produced the tiny bit of translucent thing. It seemed totally by chance that they were able to find it. It could have fallen anytime. They could have never seen it.

'A microfilm?' Tony asked, tearing himself from his Gibbs-induced stupor.

'Wait. I think we can read it…' McGee said.

Ziva brought the microfilm to McGee's desk, who placed it in a device that was linked to the computer, while Tony powered up the screen.

A text appeared and Tony shrugged, turning his head towards McGee.

'Can't read. Ya want me to do a head stand? Sure it's be an improvement over my crutches, but you just don't do head stands in Armani suits…'

McGee rolled his eyes and clicked some icon.

'It was upside down.'

Tony smiled sweetly, batting his eyelids.

'But of cooourse it was. You know, there are… magazines I know even you would read upside down, but…'

'Tony…' Ziva cut in. 'Come on. Grow up.'

Tony raised his eyebrows.

'But you just love little boys.'

Ziva smacked his arm and sighed, reading the message aloud.

'_Dear Gibbs,_

'_If you read this, you are either very observant, paranoid, or lucky. Well, if you are reading this, you are very lucky, for I don't think your "precious" would have survived my little present – well, he or McGee, for I don't think 'he' would be able to link it to the screen. Shame, he's a fine man. Well, for what your lot are worth. I'm sure little Tony would blame himself all his life if he died. Anyway, if he too is still alive, I think my little baby was simple enough for Miss David to be able to defuse it, wasn't it? It was a belated present from your brother, Ziva. I'm sure he'd had loved for you to keep on your training. I wouldn't want you to explode because you don't train anymore. _

'_Not scared, yet, DiNozzo? I wonder why you didn't follow your father's advice. It _was_ an interesting prospect, you know?_

'_C._'

Ziva's voice did not falter until the end, but her tone was clipped and got even more so as she read on.

'She knows us', she commented. 'She knows us. And she's playing with us.'

'We knew that, already, Ziva. But what she says is still full of shit.'

'Well, you have to admit it's… uncanny… how well she knows us… I mean…' McGee said.

'Come on, McGee. She fucked Ari. He must have told her his sister was MOSSAD. So she's bound to know how to deal with her 'babies'. You're McGeek, from MIT, so you know how to play with computers. And I'm as useless as Gibbs on that subject, so, of course it'd be you who-'

'I am useless, DiNozzo?' asked Gibbs as he was coming out of the elevator, empty-handed, a frown in place.

'Ah, boss, we just found this', said Dinozzo, pointing at the screen.

Gibbs perused it with slanted eyes, and Tony could see his anger rolling off of him in waves. Then, just like that, he set off, apparently to go and see the Director about all that had transpired.

'What's with him?' asked McGee.

Tony turned to him, raising his eyebrows like nothing was the matter.

'You mean… Other than we've been targeted by a stupid cow for the last month? And that we nearly blew up – you, me, whatever? Well, everything is well. Ain't it? He's just being Gibbs.'

He shrugged.

'He cares for us, McGee. And he's worried. She's playing with us, and he's pissed. We can't even trust our fucking security personnel anymore. As far as I am concerned, she could have planted a bomb somewhere in a pen she gave one of our co-workers that is set to blow up as soon as it picks up our personal pheromones…'

'Oh, come on, she's more subtle than that.'

Tony pointed at the screen.

'You mean that is subtle?? She's being a bitch, using Intel that was passed on her years ago, and she found a way to daunt us further, and she's becoming a master at it… What do you think, Probie?'

It had been a long time since McGee had heard that tone of voice in Tony when calling him 'Probie', and had he been greener, the younger agent would have recoiled. But he was not and Tony's seniority had ceased to intimidate him eons ago.

'Look, Tony, I just mean I-'

'Stop it. Both of you', Ziva snapped, and the agents finally realized that she had at down behind her own desk, holding her head in her hands.

They came over, concerned.

'You're alright, Ziva?' Tony asked, no hint of his usual drawl in his voice as he said her name.

'Yes. Of course I'm alright. I'm fine, really.'

'Come on.'

The young woman pursed her lips, and her shoulders slumped.

'No… you're right… I'm not fine… Oh my… Oh my God!!'

'What is it?' Tony asked.

'You think you know your own brother… You… are forced to revise your judgement of him… You're forced to kill him… But… you never imagine… Oh God!'

Tony laid a hand on Ziva's shoulder.

'She's nuts, Ziva… It has nothing to do with your brother… I mean, not directly…'

'You don't understand… It has everything to do with my brother…'

'He's dead, Ziva…' Tony tried to argue, willing the dread he was feeling to go away. He was in denial, but his gut had anticipated was Ziva was telling them months ago. 'He can't be orchestrating all of this for beyond the grave…'

'He is… I know he is… This is his backup plan, you see? He knew there was a possibility he was going to die… So… I'm sure he… manipulated that woman into being obsessed by him so as to carry out his revenge against Gibbs and… Oh my God…'

McGee frowned. He showed a combination of two totally contradictory feelings: some kind of lurking terror, and acceptance. He was calmer than Tony was, in a way, because Tony was in inner turmoil.

It was not only the case. He felt responsible for those guys who had been beaten more and more viciously outside the bar he used to go to regularly (because he did), just because they looked remotely like him. Three days since they had withdrawn the surveillance, because more than a month had gone by without any incident and they couldn't leave an agent outside the bar forever. Three tiny days. The first, they had been tense, expecting some kind of beating. The second, since nothing had happened, they had breathed a little more freely. And when he and Gibbs had come into the office that morning, it almost had felt as if the gay mugging belonged to the past…

Well, how wrong they had been.

The Bitch had timed her orders well. And on top of everything, she had sent computer screens to them to blow him up and listen in on their conversations. Now their nerves were ragged and one of them was bound to do something – stupid.

Tony feared he would be the one…

'You okay, Tony?' McGee asked, gazing at him with concern.

'Mmh… There's The Bitch after my ass, even though, you know, I really have no idea why she's thinking I'm Gibbs' precious…'

Ziva was giving an incredulous look.

'You mean… you… Oh… You have no idea…'

She sighed, but McGee looked at her ponderously.

To him, at least, the idea was not as ludicrous as it seemed to Tony.

It had been a long day for everybody, and McGee had decided to invite Tony to dinner, so they could have a little chat 'between men', under the pretence that Gibbs would be pissed and Tony would not survive the week end.

Secretly, Tony wished he had stayed at Gibbs', partly because he knew the man wouldn't be as impossible as he had been all day, partly because he had get used to being so close to him without anybody judging him, partly because he knew that Gibbs would be bored and feel lonely…

But wearing the mask he still wore, of course, he had had to accept McGee's invitation.

They had been talking for a while, now, and as Tony had hinted at a personal project he had involving the bar that the victims of the beatings attended, he suspected McGee was trying to make him admit to his going frequently to the bar, by insisting on the mistakes he had done over the past, and hinting not too subtly to that one time when he had kept Intel from his partners because his sister had been involved. They already had drunk 'much' and Tony's tongue was loosening.

Which was, admittedly, Tim's goal in the first place.

'Hey, Probie, you don't have the monopoly of screw-ups, okay? Look, I've 'tongued' a murderer – a transsexual murderer –, I should have outsmarted Ari the day he killed Kate, I opened that damned letter, I wanna screw Gibbs…'

The last part had been pronounced far too low for McGee to hear it. Or so Tony thought. But McGee was looking at him steadily, unphazed.

'Yeah. I know. Abby told me.'

'Wh- Oh. Please. Tell me I did not say the last part out loud?'

'It's alright, Tony. I know why you could have… issues. I mean, him being a guy and your boss and everything.'

'Fuck!'

'Abby figured it out a long while ago. Well, at least the platonic part. Wasn't sure about your actual desires for him, though. Sure as hell, I didn't want to believe her when she told me, but you know, I'm alright with that.'

'Ooh great. Now I'll have to write my resignation for him.'

'Well no you don't have to…'

'Like shit. You have good Intel, right? And I don't even try to deny any of it. So you know, I won't let you have the pleasure of giving him any means to shoe me out. I prefer to have it my way.'

'I've no intention to –'

'McGee. I've been a bitch to you these last few years. I know it. But I didn't think you could resort to this type of-'

'I'm not going to do anything about it, Tony!'

The young man looked more than sceptical about it, but McGee knew most of it was acting. It always was, with Tony. Especially when he was at his most vulnerable. But it pained McGee a great deal that Tony would suggest such a thing – even in distress. It was so out of character that he was completely taken aback. This was a man who had survived the plague and the death of more friends than he cared to count, and held the whole team together by trying to make things as normal as possible despite his own grief. And here he was, snapping bitterly at him, suggesting things that he was ashamed of even thinking, judging by the way he now hung his head.

'And behold, I've just managed to lose a friend too. Way to go.'

'Tony… You have not lost me. You like to suck dick? So what? You've teased me countless times about my "feminine glow", but you know, it's just the way you are, and even I can respect the fact that you might need a cover of sorts… Don't take me wrong, seeing how you leer at women, you like what you see… Does not mean I've not seen you check out Gibbs' ass when you think nobody's looking…'

Tony looked up tentatively, wincing at the fact that he had apparently been caught red-handed.

'Come on. I wouldn't do that.'

'Well back then I thought – nah. I hoped it was something else, but now I know, it all makes sense…'

Tony sighed deeply, and closed his eyes.

'I'm sorry, Timothy.'

'Yeah. Well. I'm hurt that you would think that but…'

Tony offered him a fond but exhausted smile.

'Yeah. You're my loyal Saint Bernard… I appreciate that.'

'Hey!'

'You know… It's ironic, huh?'

'What is?'

'I'm desperately in love with… well… Gibbs. I think… I think I've always been. Sort of.'

He huffed bitterly.

'And she thinks I'm his precious, while, all this time, he's been mine…'

McGee wanted to say something, but like Ziva, he thought Tony needed to get his head out of his arse for once and accept the truth for what it was…

'So. What are you going to do about it?'

'About what, McGee?'

'About… Well… What you feel for Gibbs…'

'…There are reasons why there are rules, Probie…' said Tony dejectedly.

'Such as?'

'Well… 'Constant Vigilance', you know? Like in Harry Potter – hell, I didn't know I would quote this movie one day. You can't concentrate when the life of the guy you fuck is endangered. And to tell you the truth, if that bitch was here and… I don't know… I think I'd lose it…'

'Well… Teammates you care about get shot every day, Tony. Remember Pacci? I know you didn't know him that well. But look at Gibbs' reaction. The one he had with K-'

'Yeah. I know what you mean. Still…'

He sighed, looking down at his hands.

'Madame Director sure wouldn't like it', Tony reminded him.

'The hell with her. She made you sleep with the daughter of an arm-dealer. And because of that, you could have been blown up with your car. But what you said… About concentration… I think you get it wrong. I mean, yeah, you acted irrationally the other day, when you threw yourself in front of that bullet, right? But if you hadn't, Gibbs would be dead, right now. And what makes you lose it is your feelings… So what if you unburdened yourself a bit?'

Tony held his gaze a long time in silence. When he spoke again, he sounded even more defeated.

'I can't tell him, McGee. If I told him… It would make it real. And I'll crave for his touch even more.'

'Yeah. But what you're doing is dangerous, Tony. And you know, perhaps…'

'What. If you had the hots for the big boss, would you tell him, McGee?'

Tim winced.

'Well… I can't say… I'm not into guys…'

'Well imagine Gibbs was a woman. Would you tell her?'

'That's gross, Tony. I don't think I'm into Gibbs at all…'

'Just imagine.'

'Mmh… Don't know. Probably not.'

'See?'

'But it's me, and you're you, and I'm chicken most of the time, and you kept it all for yourself for so long… And now it's getting dangerous and I'm sure –'

'Why dangerous, Probie? 'Cause now I'm fucking guys on my free time?'

'Well… Yes…'

'I can't see why it is more dangerous than fucking girls on my free time. 'Sides, look at Gibbs. Married four times, hit twice on the head, once with a golf club, the other with a baseball bat.'

'More dangerous because more than half the one night stands you used to gloat about were spent in your head only.'

'Yeah. And you would know that because?'

'Because we all know that. Gibbs knew too. And when you did fuck all night long, which was not often, he was even more grumpy than usual.'

'Ah, 'cause you can read Gibbs so well, can you?'

'Yeah, well, believe me or not…'

'I won't.'

'Anyway… I don't think he would approve of you getting down there while you're still wounded.'

'Ooh come on, McGee… I'm a grown man. I can take care of myself.'

'Well, no, apparently you can't.'

'McGee…'

'Tony, there is a mental out there who wants you and Gibbs dead. And she'd like it very much to put a bullet into your pretty little head. I still don't know how she figured out you had the hots for him but –'

'Shut up, McGee.'

'So what if I do. You'll still go out there and make out with those guys? Even after those three more guys have been beaten? Don't you see? It could have been you… Late thirties, beginning of forties. Well built. Brown hair. Hazel-green eyes.'

'We know she wants to get at Gibbs and me. So?'

'So you're still going there, unarmed, on your own?'

'The point is: someone has to do something about it. If you know I'm going, I won't be 'alone' per say. You're my back up, right? And if you don't want any part in this mess, I'll tell you this. I need a good fuck, McGee. A real one. I'm going there to fuck. As a human being. Not necessarily as a special agent. And if those guys want me dead, I'm not going to stand by and let another guy get the shit taken out of him because I wasn't out there.'

'Tony. Tell me. How long have you been visiting that bar?'

Tony fidgeted.

'Mmh… Six months. More or less. Well, have not been since the gunshot, anyway. What does it matter?'

'You kidding me? You've been there long enough for "them" to pick up on the fact that you may not be as straight as you say.'

'Hey I've been there before I even went out to myself… I mean… I knew that bar before I decided to go over there and get some dick… I've been friends with Chris for years…'

'Chris?'

'The owner's boyfriend. A college pal. Such a tease… So I've been over there once or twice before. But what does it matter anyway?'

'Come on, Tony… I don't know how the men you did date looked like, but given what she said when they shot you, he must look a lot like Gibbs…'

'You think so? Man, I like Gibbs, yeah. Love him, even. That's worse, but that's true. But why would I date people who look like him? What makes you say that? Do you think I'm stupid enough-'

'But desperate, yeah. Tony, perhaps you don't even realize it. But I think…'

'There aren't that many Marines with silver hair and vibrant blue eyes that can turn your insides like jelly, willing to fuck a pathetic man past his prime in the backroom of a gay bar, McGee…'

'You don't give yourself enough credit, Tony…'

'What do you know about this, anyway?'

'I know if you love someone and there's a possibility it might work out, you tell them.'

Tony gave a bark of laughter.

'Yeah. Told you already. I was only following rule #4. As if I could come out to Gibbs and tell him what I feel for him. Hell, worse thing is, it wouldn't be as bad if it was only lust, ya know…'

McGee had a harder time understanding that.

'What d'you mean?'

Tony sighed dejectedly.

'A good fuck doesn't have to mean anything. You can get all sticky and sweating and heaving and blow your load, it still doesn't have to mean anything. I would know. I've done that for release all my life. I've even done that for work. I'm sure if I pressed the right buttons, Gibbs would give it a try. Fire me afterwards, perhaps, but I don't think it'd be as impossible.'

He kept silent for a while and McGee didn't dare to say anything, but then Tony was looking up at him and speaking softly.

'But I love him, and I want him, and if I did the not shameful thing and let him fuck me, well… It'd be worse, you know. So I don't care what happens. If that bitch thinks she can get at Gibbs by hurting me, well, let her try, 'cause I'll never go down without a fight. But I can't let her hurt any more people while she's trying to get me…'

He was already standing up, reaching for his crutches.

'Don't worry, Probie. It'll be alright. She won't try to get at me as long as Gibbs is not there to see. But if I go alone, I might notice things that are amiss…'

'You don't have to go alone, Tony.'

He shrugged.

'I know it's dangerous. Hell, I know I'm breaking a dozen rules by going. I don't care. I can't bear it anymore.'

He smiled ruefully.

'At least it's not my 'ordinary' day. Perhaps they won't expect me to be here. But if I can manage to pull some strings and chat with some friends of mine… well… That and blow some cock before I do blow up literally from frustration – it's be worth it. Thanks for the dinner, McGee.'

He was standing up, but Tim stopped him by grabbing his wrist. His brow furrowed with concern.

'You know Gibbs will chew your ass. Right?'

'Well… You know I'd looove him to.'

Tony's smile was so bitter McGee felt his heart sink.

'At least let me accompany you.'

'Tim…'

'It's dangerous. And you're not at 100 yet and…'

'I may have crutches, Probie, but I am not crippled. And I told you. I happen to go there to fuck. You wouldn't want to babysit me when I have my nose buried in pubic hair, would you?'

'Tony…' McGee was flushing, but he was even more anxious than he was embarrassed.

'It's gonna be alright. I won't let that bitch catch me. Gibbs doesn't love me as I do him… But I know he cares… And I'm not suicidal enough to let myself be killed…'

He smiled gently at Tim and freed himself from his grasp. He smiled ruefully, and in an upsurge of fondness that surprised them both, he ruffled his hair. He hesitated.

'Thanks for the dinner, Timmy. I really appreciate it. I'll… give you a call when I come home, okay? So you don't have to stay up all night biting at your nails…'

'Be careful, Tony.'

'You know I always am.'

'That's what I'm afraid of…'

And with that, he was gone, leaving Timothy McGee alone at the table.

Utterly lost.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Bitter End 09

Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking

Fandom: NCIS

Category: Slash

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann

Rating: PG for now (will be NC-17 later on)

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time

Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can't deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game.

Spoilers: Every season from season 1.

Warnings: Homophobia

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Thanks to Joey, who does an amazing job, for betaing this fic.

McGee had been staring at the spot where Tony had disappeared for the last five minutes when he was finally able to think correctly again.

He stood up abruptly, paid for the meal, and hurried to his car, snapping his phone open and dialling Gibbs' number on the way.

'Gibbs.'

His boss' bark sounded even grumpier than usual. Great. Not only was McGee about to tell Gibbs that he had let a slightly drunk and wounded Tony do something incredibly stupid, but he had to tell that to a Gibbs that would probably rip his head off had he been there in flesh.

'Err… Boss? It's McGee.'

He heard an impatient sigh and he gulped.

'Figures, McGee. What d'you have for me?'

'Err… N-nothing, Sir… I mean, Boss… Just…'

'Spill it McGee.'

'Tony's-gone-off-to-the-bar-on-his-own-and-he's-planning-to-'

'STOP, McGee. Breathe. I can't understand a word you say.'

McGee inhaled briefly, cringing.

'Tony's gone to the gay bar, Gibbs. He's planning to-'

'WHAT?'

'Gibbs, he said it was partly his fault, the beatings, I mean, and since I knew I could tell you so you would know and it would qualify as undercover work, and that he had the right to… 'go clubbing' like everyone else, so he-'

'You've let him go there on his own?'

'Well, he said he had things to do there, partly pertaining to the case… I tried to dissuade him but he-'

'I'm gonna kill him. And you. How the fuck did he get there?'

'Took a cab.'

'You go home. I swear if anything happened to him, you'll hear from me. Got it?'

McGee gulped.

'Got it, Boss.'

Gibbs hung up and McGee winced, then sighed, his hands on the wheel, sagging against in his seat. He closed his eyes.

'Hell. I never should listen to him.'

The fact that Tony had left slightly inebriated – but inebriated nonetheless… even though he had appeared strangely sober in the end of their conversation – did not help. Normally, he trusted Tony enough to know he knew what he was doing… But after what had transpired tonight, he was afraid Tony would do something incredibly stupid…

He hit his head softly against the headrest a few times, screwing his eyes shut, in a pointless attempt to punish himself for not cuffing Tony and bringing him back to Gibbs.

He thought he could go and check whether Tony was okay – the restaurant was nearer to the club than Gibbs' house was – but decided against it.

Gibbs was already pissed off as it was. He had ordered him back home. He was not about to disobey him. Not now. Not when he had managed to pry Tony from Gibbs' greedy fingers for a night and let him go…

Hell. He'd have to remember to buy Gibbs a double dose of coffee on Monday if he wanted to get back on the man's good side.

Or at least, to see another day.

Storming into the club, Gibbs discovered that what Chris had said about the patrons had been accurate. He could point out a Marine in a crowd from miles away, and half the bodies moving 

sinuously on the dance floor at the rhythm of a beat so loud it would make even Abby cringe, seated at the bar on in the cubicles on the aisles of the club, were most definitely Marines.

He scanned the crowd anxiously in search of Tony but he was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, he tried to see if there was anybody else he knew, when he recognized Chris, who was currently flirting with the barman, and laughing at something he was saying.

Which was strange, in a way: he had thought that the manager of the club and the young man were in a relationship. Was the manager so unpossessive of his lover that he let him 'play' with his own barmen?

Gibbs frowned and elbowed his way to the bar, sat next to Chris, dismissing for the moment the bulky man who was making drinks with an effortlessness that would have made Tom Cruise in _Cocktail_ more than jealous.

'You know where Tony DiNozzo is, dontcha?'

Chris raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked at the Federal Agent.

'My, isn't that Special Agent Gibbs… I thought Tony was exaggerating when he told me you weren't the polite type. Hello to you too, Special Agent Gibbs…'

Gibbs was fuming. So Tony really _knew_ 'Chris'? Was he one of the men Chris flirted with behind his lover's back? Seeing how he had frowned when he had addressed him, the young man seemed somewhat protective of his Tony. What was there behind it? Did Tony come here often? Was there something between the two of them? Was that the reason for the stares he had given the young man? The cryptical things he had said when he had asked him questions, nearly a month ago?

Had Chris been protecting a 'secret' of Tony's when they met? Was that the reason that he hadn't acknowledged he knew him in the first place?

Was Tony even really interested in men?

And so, had Tony been the reason why men were beaten outside this particular club?

As hard as Gibbs wanted to deny it, it all added up in his mind. And his treacherous mind told him that he had known all along, but was only too much of a coward – or was too afraid of commitments – to even try and talk to the young man about his feelings, so he had dismissed any sign Tony might have given him about his being interested in his boss as wishful thinking…

It had been easier that way... So much easier… And The Bitch had had to come and make them face their demons…

And now, Tony and Chris might be fucking – sharing the manager of the bar? – and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The Bitch was slow, though. Because even though Tony went out with men, Chris was not a Marine…

'I don't have time for a social call. I'll repeat my question. Have you seen Tony?'

'Hey I'm not gonna-'

'Chrissie', the barman, who had kept silent until then, watching their interaction with an indulgent smile, butted in. 'Why don't you help me out and bring Major O'Connell and his sweetheart the Blue Hawaii and the Man O'War you were supposed to bring them five minutes ago?'

'But I just-'

'Please?' the barman asked again, with a smile.

'I swear if he-'

'Shoo! Shoo!' grinned the barman, motioning the young man to go away with a dismissive gesture of his hands.

Chris rolled his eyes and sighed. He murmured a: 'I swear. You two are impossible', before he scurried off with the drinks. The barman watched him go and Gibbs, irritated by the interruption, frowned at the man.

If 'Chris' had dressed casually, the barman was just – well. Cross-dressing. It was difficult to tell his age given the amount of makeup he had on, but Gibbs estimated it to be around fifteen years older than Chris or Tony were. So he was certainly around fifty years old. He was tall, muscular in a burly way, and imposing. If he had been working out a bit more, Gibbs knew that the man would not have the beginning of a paunch in the mid-section.

For all he knew, the man could be a retired soldier. Which would have made him think of him in a much more friendly way, in any other circumstances.

Besides, the forthcoming, patient smile the man had plastered on his face and the good-natured though deep look in his eyes told him that he was the kind of men that you really wished to have on your side, because they would outdo themselves for a friend but there would be hell to pay if any of the people they cared for was hurt.

The man diverted his attention back to him.

'What can I do for you, honey? Want a drink? You sure look like you could do with one.'

Gibbs frowned.

'I was… inquiring after an agent of mine. He's supposedly come here tonight.'

'Well… It's Saturday night, ain't it? He's not on duty, is he?'

'No, he's not.'

'Well… he can do whatever he wants in his free time. Can't he? Or does it bother you that he should spend it in a gay bar?'

There was calculation in his eyes and the man didn't even bother to hide it. Gibbs frowned. He didn't see any reason to lie, but he still didn't like it.

'Well no, of course not. He can fuck whomever he wants.'

Uh oh. That had come out perhaps a little too harshly. The man raised his eyebrows. He didn't buy it. That much was clear enough.

'Well, if you say so. So why are you here?'

'Taking him back home.'

'Why? He's cheating on you?'

The man was teasing, a big, cheeky smirk outwardly mocking Gibbs. He was losing his patience.

'Well, no, of course not. I'm his boss. We're not in a relationship.'

'So you really have no say in how he spends his free time.'

'You don't understand.'

Gibbs lowered his voice, trying very hard not to just pull out his gun and shoot the infuriating bastard. He was wasting time.

'He shouldn't come here alone. He's been wounded. He's weak. And there's someone who wants him dead. Got it? But maybe I should just cuff you and bring you to headquarters, 'cause maybe, you've got something to do with that, hey?'

The man had the gall to laugh. He was clearly unimpressed.

'My, my… Look at you. Losing your temper so easily, aren't you? Well, I thought cops and ex-Marines had to keep a modicum of control…'

'Now…'

'Yes. I've seen the man you're looking for. If you're looking for the man I assume you're looking for. If that makes any sense.'

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

'And?'

'Well. He's been around. But since he got shot, we hadn't had the pleasure to have him here… Till tonight.'

'What… He's been here before?'

'Ya know, when a cutie like him has been coming – and I mean, literally too, I'm sure – every damn Friday nights for over six months… Well, except this last month – you get to recognize him from a mile away. Though, ya know. He's friends with Chrissie, and Chrissie told me he went by once during daytime…'

'Six months?'

That would make it… a little after his dive in the water. What had driven Tony to go to a gay bar for six – wait – five months in the first place?? Why so suddenly? Wasn't he supposed to go out with girls, all the time? Gibbs knew most of his one-night-stands had been imaginary ones, but it still did not explain why Tony would come out of the closet in a dubious gay bar…

'Yeah, honey. And know what? You might just be his type.'

The transvestite was grinning at him.

'You kidding, right?'

'Mmmh whenever I saw him disappear, it was with an older guy, grey hair, lopsided smile, hard metallic eyes, and a hard and hot body… So well, as far as I know, you could do. Now tell me the truth. You his sugar daddy and not treating him right or he's just got a huge fixation on you that you don't want to indulge, sweetheart?'

'He's been… Sleeping with guys?' asked Gibbs, ignoring the second part of the question.

'Well by the look of it he has… I mean, most of the young men who come here intend to have sex at some point, you know… I know at first he kept it as the hot kisses level… But I don't think he would take it to the backrooms if he was still at that level.'

'Where is he now?'

'So you _are_ interested… Tell me, you're his boyfriend and you're jealous?'

The barman leaned across the bar seductively. Though of course, Gibbs knew he was only playing.

'You know, I could just leave here for half an hour, and give you the grand tour…'

'Thanks but no thanks. And I don't think you can.'

'Sure I can. I own the place.'

'You're the manager?'

Gibbs was floored.

He had seen the manager's file when they had studied the case. He just hadn't made the connection between the brawny man on the photograph – which dated back a bit, in fact – and that man dressed like a… Well. Supposed to be dressed like a woman. Nobody would mistake him for a girl. And not because of his deep sensuous voice. Despite the dress, makeup and wig, all in his screamed 'male'. Obviously, the man liked to play with everything. Including his appearance. And to see him like this, it was both easy and difficult to recognize a man who had once been a Marine…

'Yup', the barman answered. 'Mmmh you know… I'd swear you don't want any other guy near him. Well I can understand why. The guy's so sweet… But if you had a fight or something six months ago, what makes you think he's willing to come back to you, hun'? 'tis not because he fucks guys who look like you that he wants to fuck you…'

Evidently, if Tony was Chris' friend, he wouldn't necessarily tell that man about his whole life, and Gibbs was thankful for that. Though the man seemed to know enough.

The man was grinning at him, obviously not believing a word he was saying himself.

'Where. Is. He', Gibbs snapped.

'Ooh you have to loosen up a bit, hun'. Wanna know what I think? I think he's pretty new to this. I mean, first time I saw him get down there, guy told me he almost chocked on his dick.'

'You remember the first time he went to the… backroom?'

'Well, told you, it's not every day you've got that good looking a man asking for a drink at your bar. And the fact that he knew Chris made it a lot easier as well.'

'Oh come on…'

'Yeah. Anyway, after some time, he must have improved 'cause maaan…'

'I don't think I want to know that.'

'So tell me…'

The barman was leaning again.

'You and him together?' he repeated.

'Do I look like I'm interested in him?'

'Actually, you look like you're more than interested in him. You look like you're fucking in love with him. So you two never hooked up? I can't understand why he's going for the older men. I mean, he could have any of the twinks he wants. What with his good looks and his classy suits and all… Smells like good money, steady job, incredible fuck. Who wouldn't want him? _I _want him.'

Gibbs just stared. He did not want to think of what it could mean. It would be way too convenient. He recalled the very first time he had offered Tony shelter for one night. They had had way too much to drink and Tony had gone flirtatious. At the time, he was too pissed himself to even care… But at one point, he had called Tony 'Doll' – which, of course, Tony remembered very well when 'Charlie the Sheriff' had called Jethro 'Doll' as they were investigating a crime scene. Pretty easy revenge for him. Perhaps even too easy.

Of course, Tony had to remember that night. Had they been a little more drunk, it could have ended up on the sofa. Naked. But they had both freaked out when the flirtation had gone beyond control and regained their senses just before Tony kissed him…

Afterwards, every night they had spent together had been on juice, water, and coffee only. With time, the discomfort he had felt had vanished somehow, replaced by regret and a feeling that he was missing something. Perhaps, if he – if they – had allowed this to happen…

Perhaps Tony would not be seeking that feeling in the arms of other men. Men he did not know. Men whom he could not trust. Men with whom he was not safe, especially now. Men who would not give him half the things Jethro wanted to give Tony – but denied them both.

Oh he had failed him. Utterly. As a boss, as a co-worker, as a friend… As a potential lover?

But why now?

He sighed.

'So. Where is he, now?'

'They. And I wouldn't go down there just now. They might be in the middle of a blowjob. Or more. He's been talking about wanting a real fuck for a while now.'

'Whatever.'

The manager sighed dramatically.

'Where do you think they are? They are in the backrooms. Take the stairs, follow the sighs, the sweat and the red lights. You're there.'

'Thank you.'

'You're welcome, sweetheart. And better tell him what you feel – 'cause, even if I don't know him as well as Chris does, he's hurting so much he won't wait long for you, you know. Plenty of fish in the sea. Especially for a handsome guy like him.'

'I'll think about it.'

And with that, he was gone, hurting a little himself. The hollow in his heart seemed to dig deeper and deeper at each step he took down the metallic staircase. The scent of sweat and sex was growing stronger, and he could not help glancing at the couples that were already kissing against the wall, touching skin wherever they could. Gibbs dreaded the moment when he would recognize Tony amongst them.

When he reached the actual backroom, the music dimmed, the sighs and groans kept getting stronger, more and more arousing. Gibbs, still wearing his long coat – privilege of showing the janitors some ID – felt a little overdressed compared to the half-dressed men who were kissing and groping and touching and fucking. He felt like a voyeur, checking on every guy down there; some of the guys at the receiving end of a blow job motioned for him to come and join them, half-lidded eyes checking him out shamelessly, and he was really getting nervous and hot and excited at the same time, when he heard a groan on his left, in the corner of the room, that he thought he recognized.

He turned swiftly and froze. The man who was being sucked by an apparently very talented mouth had an overall stocky frame, short silver hair, thin lips, and a mostly aquiline nose. He was apparently in his fifties. It was as if Gibbs was looking as a twin brother, or in a distorted mirror.

The guy's large hands were kneading the hair of a younger man, on his knees, well dressed – still dressed, thank God! –, crutches laid against the wall next to them, a man whose back he would have recognized anywhere.

His heart sunk and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by a wave of pain and regret. He had to rein his emotions in. He had to, or else he would kill the guy. Slowly. Painfully. The man who was buried to the balls into his boy's sweet mouth. To think he could touch one hair of his Tony. _His_ Tony. Hell, why did it take all this for him to acknowledge feelings that he had been harbouring as long as he remembered?

More than slightly pissed, he resumed walking, determinedly, and grabbed some of Tony's hair to pull him away from the man, none to gently, glaring at the startled Marine all the while.

'Get out, Tony', he said coolly, completely ignoring the gargle.

'Hey! That hurt! Gibbs?! What the fuck do you think you're doing!'

'Out. Now.'

'You've no right to…'

'Out…'

He turned his face slightly towards Tony, glaring at him without a word. Truth to be told, it hurt him to see those eyes, pain-filled, and betrayed, and confused, and ashamed… But he was too angry to really care just now. He was already using up all his control not to kill that guy.

Tony narrowed his eyes, huffed, got up clumsily, snatched his crutches and took off in a hurry. Gibbs wondered for a second if Tony would even wait for him outside. He knew he really could not blame him if he did not. But he could not bear to see him with another man. Another man who looked so much like him that it could not possibly be a coincidence.

Besides, he never had believed in coincidences.

That also meant the bitch had been right all along.

He leaned forward, stepping neatly into the other man's personal space, aware that some of the men around them had stopped whatever they were doing, watching anxiously.

'You lay a hand on Tony again, I cut your balls off. Understood?' he said, sickly sweet.

The older man was about to say something, but as Gibbs leaned some more, he gulped, then nodded frantically.

'Good', Gibbs said simply, before storming off.

He felt relieved at the fact that Tony was actually waiting for him outside. Well, pacing was more like it. If you someone who was using crutches could 'pace'.

'ARE YOU MAD?' the young man shouted at him as soon as he caught sight of him.

'No. _You_ are.'

'WHAT DO YOU CARE WHAT I DO ON MY FREE TIME? YOU DON'T LIKE ME BEING A FAG? IS THAT IT? YOU FOLLOWED ME IN HERE?'

'Tone it down, DiNozzo.'

'THE HELL I WILL!!'

Gibbs looked at him, at how desperate he sounded. Tony had never been that angry. Never. At him, anyway. The worse was thinking that he had every right to be. He saw him reach up, comb nervous fingers through his brown hair.

'GOD, Gibbs. Why the FUCK did you do that?'

'… He was not good enough for you. And the… pretence of an undercover work you gave McGee was not good enough either.'

Tony snorted.

'As if. Someone had to see how they picked their victims. Well we know that. But how they knew they were dating Marines. I know the club. I know the people. I'd have noticed if something was amiss.'

'You don't go undercover without backup, Tony. No matter what. You know that. And you should have told me you used to come here.'

'Sure. But I don't have to ask you to be allowed to go out and fuck (and suck) whomever I want… And anyway who are you to decide those things for me? You sure don't complain when I'm fucking girls – well, as long as I'm not late at work.'

'Trust me. And for goodness sake, you were down on your knees for him when you're still healing from those bullets… What the hell were you thinking?'

'You've no right to decide what I do with my life. It has nothing to do with you.'

'You sure? It _looked_ like it has a LOT to do with me.'

Tony looked embarrassed, but stared at him a moment before he started to talk again.

'What was I to say? Boss, I like to suck men who look like you, ya know. Well, I'd like to do more with them but – my secret. So now you know I'm actively bisexual, and that The Bitch was not just making everything up. Good for you. Obviously, you're disgusted. What are you gonna do. Fire me?'

'I'm not. And you know I wouldn't do that, Tony.'

'Yeah. As if I can trust you on this one. I screwed up, after all. Oh, wait, I didn't have time to get screwed…'

'God, Tony, I know I can be a bastard, but I'm not totally unfair. What you do on your spare time is your business, not mine.'

'So why have you just interrupted me in the middle of a blow job, huh? Was it just for the investigation? Because you thought I was in danger? What?'

Gibbs did not know the answer to that. He had acted on impulse. To see another man being "intimate" with HIS Tony… It had been too much. But he could not tell him that, could he? Strangely enough, women, he could cope with. But he had just discovered that Tony really did swing for both sides, and the relationship he had always wanted with the young man had been possible all along. And Tony fancied him enough to have sex with a copycat. He squinted a bit, squared his shoulders, and stared at Tony, who rolled his eyes.

'So. McGee couldn't keep his big mouth shut?' the younger man asked.

'You know he doesn't know how to shut up when under torture… And apparently, you did tell him to tell me where you were in case he was having problems hiding from me the fact that you're a bonehead.'

That actually brought the ghost of a smile on Tony's lips.

'Hell', he sighed after a long while, 'why is it that I can't stay angry at you?'

He sobered immediately, his already tentative smile fading. He looked… so sad.

Gibbs did not know why he was being so nice to Tony. He should be yelling at him. He had been reckless. He had disregarded the rules. He had put his life in jeopardy. He had withdrawn information from the investigation.

Maybe it was out of fear of rejection. Maybe he didn't want to embarrass Gibbs and himself. Maybe it was out of pride. Maybe he just deluded himself into thinking that as long as he kept this to himself, as long as he did this in the dark, where nobody from his "day" life knew him, it didn't have to be real.

Gibbs understood. Because even now, even if he knew, even if he had the proof Tony was attracted to men who could be his twins… he was still too scared to make a move. Well, at least, that big a move.

But whatever the reason, it could have cost him his life. And Gibbs could not let him go on believing that nobody valued his life…

'Tony…' Gibbs sighed at last. 'When I came back to NCIS… I came home… to you…'

'I don't know what you mean by that.'

'I wanted you safe. But I figured there was something going on, and I… Wanted to be the one to have your six.'

Tony studied him for a while, and huffed.

He looked vulnerable. Hell, Gibbs bet he was feeling vulnerable. And he knew Tony wouldn't like that at all. He could feel how embarrassed the man really was. He was playing at poking at a rock on the ground, from the tip of his crutches.

'You're mad at me?'

Tony had spoken so softly he practically missed his whisper.

Was he mad at him?

He wondered. He had been. Mad at Tony. Mad at McGee whom he had entrusted with Tony's care. Mad at himself for not getting a grip on himself and declaring his undying love for the young man when it was still time.

But now?

'I'm mostly exhausted.'

'Hm.'

They stayed silent for a while. Somehow, even though it did not make it any better, Gibbs understood why Tony had tried to hide his feelings from him. And his 'activities'… It hurt, it rankled… But he could not fault him when he himself was as much of a liar as Tony was.

He sighed.

'Don't worry about it, now. We've had a long day. Let's get you home. I'll have plenty of time to be angry later.'


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Bitter End 10

Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking

Fandom: NCIS

Category: Slash

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann

Rating: NC-17

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time

Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can't deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game.

Spoilers: Every season from season 1.

Warnings: Homophobia

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Thanks to Joey, who does an amazing job, for betaing this fic.

The ride home had been long and spent in silence. Tony had been staring out at the dark landscape that flashed by behind the window.

Dark. Calm. Although the city was still alive, at night, the only sound they could hear was the sound of silence – that, and the muffled screams of the tyres racing off on the asphalt.

When Gibbs' imposing home came in sight, Gibbs felt Tony tense. He helped the younger man out of the car, trying not to think too much about what had happened, about the fact that Tony really might like him, about the fact that what he had longed for was, perhaps, possible.

'Come. Let's eat something.'

'I've already eaten', said Tony, looking away.

'Mh. Well I need to eat something. You can… have something to drink.'

Instinctively, Gibbs knew he wanted the taste of the other man's cock off Tony. As far as he knew, he hadn't had time to come, and they had used a condom, but he could still imagine it and it was already too much.

Coming 'home' after this was a bit strange. Though Tony had been sleeping in the spare bedroom for the last month, he had been accustomed to his presence, had taken it for granted. Half of Tony's wardrobe had been moved to his house out of sheer necessity, and it had felt as if Tony was there to stay. And even his suffering from the fact that they were not 'together' as a couple did not hamper his hurry to come home, most days. Tony _was_ home, he knew that. He didn't think he could do without his constant companionship now he knew how it could be like.

What he did not understand was why he had waited at all, this whole month, to act on his feelings for Tony, while they had been in a kind of weird relationship all along, except they hadn't been kissing and bouncing and slurping and fucking, and they had yet to be honest with one another – and with themselves.

It seemed ludicrous. He shook his head when Tony's distant voice reached him. He sounded annoyed.

'Boss?' he sighed.

'Mmh?'

'The keys?'

'Uh?'

'I left them at hom- I err… didn't take them with me when I… went to the club tonight.'

'Oh. Right. The keys.'

Gibbs opened the door, suddenly very tired. Tony didn't dare avoid the confrontation and followed him into the kitchen, where Gibbs ate silently, whilst Tony bit into an apple, staring at the wall in silence. He was uneasy – it wasn't hard to tell. But then again, if Mike had caught him_ in flagrante delicto_, in the middle of a blow job, Gibbs certainly would have been uneasy as well. And given Tony's insecurities…

Gibbs sighed after a while, putting down his knife and fork as he looked at his agent.

'I know what it is you want.'

Tony raised an elegant eyebrow, tearing his gaze from the wall he had been staring at.

'Aw. Do you, now? Well, I'd sure love to hear that, 'cause I sure as hell don't know what it-'

Gibbs did not give him that much time to think. He had grabbed his sleeve, reached to cup the back of Tony's head, winced when he saw him try to avoid the usual slap, dipped his head to the side and kissed him, square on the lips, hungrily.

Violently.

Tony was too stunned to respond in any kind, so Gibbs let him go, but not before he had licked Tony's lips, keeping one hand on Tony's cheek. He smiled hesitantly.

'You knew there had to be a reason why I would dress you like one of the 'Macho Men'…'

But if Tony had flushed, and looked dazed for a while, his gaze completely unfocused. Gibbs took his hand and stroked it, but then Tony's expression changed, his eyebrows contracting in a pang of pain, and he was now looking at him with an air of concern and regret.

'What did you do that for, Boss?'

Not the kind of reaction Gibbs had expected. He saw the pain in Tony's eyes, and couldn't figure out why he seemed so dejected. He was confused.

'You don't want this?' he asked softly.

'Define "this"?'

Gibbs gestured between the two of them, reluctantly letting go of the cheek he was stroking with his thumb. Tony looked clearly conflicted. Gibbs did not like it one bit. He had thought it would be easy, that Tony would crawl all over him… That they could be together at last, work something out, and…

He didn't know what he had thought anymore. Was he too late?

'I don't know… I know I want this, but… You're kind of a… family man… I can't give you kids Gibbs and…'

'Well, do you think at her age Hollis could have borne my children? Do you think I could be selfish enough to ruin a child's life by giving birth to a child at _my_ age? With the job we do?'

'Well… You know if you just want to be nice to me, and us being friends, if you just want us to spend some time together like we did for the last month, you don't have to tongue me… I'd be nice, us being friends. It _is_ nice. I like it, I do. Well, if you could just refrain from glaring at me all the time in public.'

'That I'm not sure I could do, Tony.'

'Why? You sure don't glare at McGee all the time… Except when he fucks with your coffee…'

'Because I couldn't let my guard down with you.'

'Well, whatever you mean, you sure have let it down, just now.'

'Yeah I have. And you know why? Because however hard I fight it, in the end it's all the same.'

'What is? Fight what? What's the same?'

'You're not that dense, DiNozzo. I know you know.'

'Perhaps I'm not confident enough. Perhaps I don't want to think you're offering to give me all I've ever wanted because I'll be waking up and all I'll have to do is-'

'Wake up every morning in my arms…'

Tony was avoiding his gaze.

'You didn't need to let your guard down with McGee when you came back… He was all over you, and you let him…'

'Oh, for goodness sake!'

'I thought… I thought we were family, boss. You don't leave your family like that… You don't leave your family when you know that…'

Gibbs stood up, placed himself before him and grabbed both sides of his face to look into Tony's eyes. He had not realized how much the agent was hurting. But for a split-second, there, he saw the depth of his pain and anguish and it hurt him more than he ever thought it could.

'Oh God Tony… I'm so sorry… I did not realize that-'

'Well you're a talented investigator. More experienced than I am. You should have. Eons ago.'

He freed himself and stood up, wincing at the pain in his thighs, and shoving Gibbs out of the way in his attempt to flee.

'Wait… Tony, we need to talk. We can make this work.'

'Rule 12.'

'Fuck rule 12. Tony… Stop… Listen to me…'

'I need time to think.'

'Yeah, but we can do that together…'

He was following Tony down the hall, down the stairs. The younger man didn't run, he was still too wounded for that anyway, but he hardly stopped to open the door. By then, he had grabbed his coat and shoes, put them on, grabbed his crutches and opened the door, while Gibbs was doing everything in his power to resist the urge to just tackle him.

'Look. I know what we did… and said. But realize that…'

'Boss…'

Tony had a weary smile. He looked at him with kind eyes. There was regret there too.

'You should go back in and put on some shoes on or something. It's freezing. I don't want you to catch a cold.'

'Oh.'

Gibbs froze, reality hitting him suddenly. He had lost his mind, hadn't he? He had been so sure Tony would be more than glad to just kiss him back with all he had. But he hadn't. And it was so confusing to him that he had followed the younger man outside, despite the freezing cold of a winter night, and hadn't even realized.

Gibbs had been pacing for half an hour, raking uncharacteristically nervous hands through his gray hair. He didn't know where Tony had gone: the young man could not drive yet, so he had gone on foot, or rather on his crutches, and Gibbs was afraid he would catch a cold. Yet he knew Tony needed that time to himself, that time to think.

So he let him, resisting the urge to nip at his nails, or better go down to his basement and sand his boat to dust. He had not been that nervous since Shannon delivered Kelly. He felt lost and somewhat stupid; he thought he was going mad because of the wait. So he was too late, wasn't he? He hadn't taken his cue when he could – nearly a month ago – and now Tony was insecure and thought it wasn't worth the risk… Didn't he? Why did he even have to think about it, if he wanted it as much as he did? Gibbs had been reined in by his morale, due to his position as Tony's boss… and his being an ex-Marine, with no assurance whatsoever that if he declared himself to a completely straight DiNozzo, things would get hinky at work and he didn't want that. Tony was the best Senior Field Agent he ever had – better than Stan – and even though he knew he would have to give him up 

eventually if Tony chose to stay that long in NCIS, Gibbs wasn't ready yet to let him go, even less with The Bitch around, when she could take Tony out in a heartbeat.

He had needed him close; even though he had felt something had developed between them, he had not dared to hope it was 'it' because it could have been wishful thinking… After all, Tony had always liked touching; shake hands, squeeze shoulders, tap beneath the chin… Things that he acknowledgedly craved and Gibbs scarcely dispensed for fear to get too used to it. And – he admitted – because it kept Tony always craving for more, it kept him going, it kept him want to outdo himself to impress him… Gibbs knew Tony would never let his work get sloppy… But he could keep it just accurate – or so Gibbs liked to think.

And now? Tony would still do his best – Gibbs knew this. But it'd be awkward. In a way it had never been between them. Gibbs had always enjoyed Tony's presence. His smiles. His jokes. His so-called presents (he still had that book on MMORPGs, written in Spanish… Tony would never know how very pleased he had been by the teasing gesture…). The way he downplayed any serious injury – like the one he received after his jump, or when he had the plague, joking around all day long to make everyone feel better – and whined for a paper cut.

Kate had told him, after the plague. Gibbs had been sitting in the ward, in a corner, where Tony couldn't know he was keeping watch and tell him to just go to bed. Sipping coffee. Kate had been there, quiet for a while, and then she had started babbling about everything that had happened in the ward. How Tony had kept bothering her with movies to keep the atmosphere light, how he had flirted with the nurse to make it seem normal, how he had… How, when Kate had baited him about being ill, and told him he'd be sorrier… How Tony's immediate thought had been that he had endangered Gibbs – and how devastated he had looked, for an instant.

Of course, Kate had been too angry at the time to say anything, but then, retrospectively, it had struck her like everything that she saw between them… If Tony was already… kind of attracted to him… Perhaps _she_ might have picked it up back then, in fact. Perhaps that's why she had told him there was never enough time, that day.

And then, there had been Ari. His personal nightmare. And she had been taken away by him. And Gibbs… well… he had been too busy trying to make the world right again that he buried whatever he thought he could have done to show Tony he cared.

Had the world ever been right, anyway?

He was still thinking about Kate – God… how he missed her – when the phone rang. Never had he picked it up that fast.

'Tony?'

A pause. He held his breath.

'Lost your puppy, Gibbs?'

'Fornell?'

What the fuck was the guy calling him? He frowned, remembering that Jenny had sent him on the case. He sighed, rubbing his jaw tiredly, and raised his eyebrows.

'Not lost him. You have something for me, Tobias?'

'Yep. Apparently, the manager's lover saw 'something' while he was carrying the trash outside, saved the life of a guy, seems like it. The guy freaked out, and the manager's lover wanted to call your puppy, but the other guy – the one who was nearly clubbed to death – didn't know nor trust NCIS, so he asked him to call FBI instead. We're on the scene. I don't know what there is between DiNozzo and that waiter, Jethro, but he will only talk to Tony 'bout what he saw. He kept the guy indoors, which is good, but he's in shock and rambling, and no use to us for the time being.'

'Beaten?'

'The guys didn't have time to do much. Scared, yeah he was. Wet his pants. Oh, and Jethro. Be careful.'

'Mmh?'

'The… resemblance… with your puppy… on photographs… it was unnerving… But you have to see that guy… It's not the right day, since it's Saturday and not Friday, and there were three of them yesterday already, but it's… well, discount the swell to his jaw… You have to see this for yourself. It's 'The Bitch' or I'm not an FBI asshole. Get your ass here fast, alright?'

'Will do. You stay there?'

'Of course. Don't want you to take over the investigation _now_.'

'I won't. Not on this case.'

'Right. As if I could believe you.'

'Trust me on this one.'

''Kay. Good thing your puppy is living at your place, just now…'

'Don't get started on him…'

'Woah… overprotective, aren't we?'

'Tobias…'

'Something the matter?'

'Nothing. Nothing I'd tell you over the phone anyway.'

'So something's the matter, then…'

'I'll tell you later. Maybe.'

'More like never. Be careful what you do and say… Everybody saw the stunt you pulled earlier at the bar…'

Gibbs said nothing. But he frowned. It wouldn't do any good. Not to Tony, not to himself.

'Don't worry, kept it quiet. Don't know what's going on here, but be careful. You don't need the Bitch to know she's right.'

Gibbs froze. If Fornell suspected 'something', then it was pointless to even try to hide, anyway. He sighed.

'Got you. See you in a few.'

'Yeah. Go get your puppy.'

'Will do.'

Gibbs hung up, snatched his keys from the table, grabbed his coat and opened the door. Tony was behind it, looking lost and tired, and seemed to have been about to barge in, his hand on 

the handle already. Their eyes met, and they both froze, fixed in an awkward moment. Tony flushed and looked away, tucking his hand back into his pocket.

'Ah… Look… Boss… I know the Bitch's after me, but you don't have to-'

'We got a call, Tony. From Fornell. Says your friend at the bar has something to tell you.'

'Chris? God, is he alright?'

'He's perfectly alright, Tony. He just wants to talk t'you.'

Tony studied his face, apparently gauging the truth of his words, and relieved at the diversion. He sighed, turning around. Gibbs closed and locked the door, following Tony to the car.

'You shouldn't have walked away like that', he offered softly. 'Tis freezing. You could catch a cold. And with your weakened lungs…'

Tony sat down and closed the door of the car. He was looking at some spot on the windshield.

'It's… nice to know you care…'

'I've always cared.'

Tony didn't answer, so he started the car and pulled away.

Tony had been talking to his friend Chris and his lover for the last half hour. Gibbs had been studying him from the corner of his eyes all the while. The Marine boyfriend of the guy who had been attacked had come over and picked him up, escorted by Fornell.

And Gibbs had been stunned by the similarities between the guy – Thomas – and Tony. And, in a lesser degree, his older Marine lover and himself. Tony had looked at him, keeping whatever thoughts he had to himself. But given the way he kept glancing in Tony's direction, it was obvious that Thomas himself had noticed, though he said nothing either.

And now, looking as Tony slowly relaxed in the company of the two men – Chris and David who, stripped off all his makeup and wig, looked more like the photo on his ID and like a human being than he had earlier – Gibbs had to try very hard not to just invade their 'privacy'. Although David and Chris looked very much in love, and Chris was in David's arms all the time, Gibbs could only notice how very attractive the young man was, and how very hot David was himself in his own way, and he felt threatened by it. Why? He still didn't know. Because Tony was stalling, and that meant they weren't in a relationship – yet. And perhaps they wouldn't ever be.

But Tony was smiling genuinely at that guy – his friend – and Gibbs felt insanely jealous. Not just because he had kept all that part of his life from him. But because this guy – this hot, sexy, 

attractive young guy with muscles all in the right places and not an ounce of fat – was looking at him in a way that showed that he cared, and at times some things he said made Tony look so pleased that Gibbs couldn't help but feel jealous.

God, he was way too tired. He needed a good night sleep – though he knew sleep would evade him. He frowned at Tony and somehow managed to catch his gaze. Tony held it, sighed, and nodded once before he said goodbye to the managers of the club. Chris held his forearm, whispering something with concern etched all over his face, and snatching a look in his direction. Tony just shook his head and smiled tiredly, sadly. Gibbs averted his gaze, staring at an expensive looking round table standing in a corner of the room.

When he heard Tony 'crutch' his way to his side, he turned sharply, saluted the two men and went out to wait for the younger agent next to his car. McGee and Ziva, whom Gibbs had called during the interview, were already there.

'Done with the flirting, DiNozzo?' Gibbs grumbled.

'My, boss, sounds like you're jealous.'

There was something half-teasing, half-hesitating behind the words.

'I just don't want to do your paperwork for a whole week because you got to close to a murderer. Again.'

'Come on, boss, we had no way to know that the waitress was the girl who took Atlas.'

'Nope. So I have no possible way to know if that 'waiter' is a potential murderer.'

Tony glanced around, and gestured for Gibbs to take it elsewhere. To his utter surprise, his boss relented. Once they were out of earshot from the other agents, the young man started to talk.

'You know, boss, that's not fair. You know Chris is not a killer.'

'What isn't fair?'

'You making me pay 'cause I hesitate 'cause I don't wanna get hurt.'

'I wouldn't intentionally hurt you, Tony.'

'Like you haven't hurt your three ex wives and Colonel Mann?'

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. He was hurting, and he knew he wasn't fair, but he felt like he was groping his way in the dark and Tony wasn't helping at all.

'Look, DiNozzo. I know I can't have you – you've made that point very clear to me.' That was a lie but he didn't care. 'I don't care who you fuck as long as you're safe. But I still want you. I still love you. So I'll try to keep you safe, as hard as I can. Deal with it.'

There was something in those ice blue eyes that crushed Tony from within. He wanted that man so much – that was clear even to Gibbs himself. He wanted Gibbs to love him. And yet, Tony did want to take some distance for a little while, and Gibbs could not understand – not really. Not when he had been so sure that Tony wanted him.

'You know', Tony said after a while. 'I think it'd be better if I crashed at Tim's for a while…'

'Don't be ridiculous. My house is safer and-'

'Don't take it like that… It's just… So I can sit back and… Think about all this for a while…'

Tony seemed genuinely distressed by the whole ordeal, but it didn't explain why he would want to get away from Gibbs 'for a while'. Or so Gibbs thought.

He looked at Tony in the eyes for a moment, then looked away.

'It's okay. I understand.'

Of course, he didn't. Not really.

There was a moment of silence, and then Tony furtively kissed his cheek and it was so sweet that Gibbs didn't know why he felt so depressed.

'I'm sorry.'

Gibbs really didn't understand… But Tony did. It has always worked that way. Tony understood. Gibbs could push him, pull him, hurt him – he took it all. Anyone would have broken by now. Not Tony. And in exchange? He cared. Had he shown it? How much he cared? Hardly ever.

He shook his head, the shadow of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

'No. If anyone here should be apologizing, it is I…'

Tony frowned, gazing at him, then nodded.

'Take care, boss.'

'Be careful, Tony… Should anything…'

'I'll be alright. If anything comes up, McGee'll protect me.'

'You saying that to reassure me?'

'Ooh come on. You picked that man. You know he's good.'

'Yeah. Well. I'd rather not delegate your security.'

'You know, actually, _that_ was rather cute…'

Gibbs looked up, narrowing his eyes, and was about to utter a scathing remark when he caught sight of the man… Tony was offering a tentative, boyish smile that made him look years younger.

'Mhh', he huffed, 'have fun with McGee.'

'Thanks. See you at the office…'

'Yeah.'

'Good night…'

'Night.'

Tony hesitated, hovering for a moment, so Gibbs smiled at him.

'Go, Tony. McGee'll be going without you.'

''Kay. Night.'

And Gibbs watched him go, grin at McGee and voice some joke that he knew wouldn't fool anybody – it didn't fool him anyway. It was too half-hearted for anyone not to notice.

Gibbs frowned, pulling his Sig out of his holster.

A week and a half had gone by, and their relationship was still the same. Not strained, not really. Strictly professional. Nothing more, nothing less. Tony still lived at McGee's, and though he had stolen many speculative glances in Gibbs' direction, the team leader had no idea whatsoever what Tony would decide in the end – and truth to be told, he was terrified Tony would say 'no'.

But as time went by, he thought more and more that it had all been a dream. And that as long as Tony was happy… hell… of course Gibbs could not be, but he wanted him safe and happy anyhow. Sure, he wanted to be the one who made him happy. But should Tony choose anyone else…

Gibbs shook himself out of his thoughts. His now usually locked door had been shut, but was unlocked. He closed the door quietly after he entered and locked it. It could delay the Bitch if it was her who had entered.

He cleared the living room, the kitchen and the spare bedroom – Tony's bedroom – before he checked the basement.

Nobody.

So he went up the stairs. The door to his room was half-opened. Gibbs got a better grip on his firearm and pushed the door open, gun at the ready.

When he entered his bedroom, he did not lower his weapon straight away, somehow paralyzed at the sight before him.

Lying on his bed – lying _naked_ on his bed – was one Anthony DiNozzo, looking very much like an offering to God knew which pagan god of sensuality. He felt his mouth water just by seeing how deliciously vulnerable the younger man looked, like this, the bedcovers just above the curve of his arse, the long line of his back turned to him as he had apparently fallen asleep waiting for him.

Gibbs did not know what to think. Was that Tony's answer to him? After the whole agonizing week and a half it took for him to decide whether or not Tony would risk it all to be in a relationship with him, Gibbs had almost ceased to hope. He had to move on, or he would not make it. Tony… Tony had wormed his way into his heart and his flesh craved for the younger agent's.

Coming out of his daze, he lowered his weapon, placing it as silently as possible on the bedside table, glad he had locked the door already – and angry Tony hadn't. He listened to the quiet breathing of his agent, sat down on the bed, feeling the mattress shift slightly under his own weight. He reached tentatively towards Tony, his fingers ghosting over the young man's skin, feeling it shiver under his touch. His hand moved up his muscled back, stopping just under the nape of his neck.

Tony was too cold to his liking. So he lay down and draped himself around the young man, protectively. Better than any bedcover.

'Gibbs?' came the faint voice from the man lying underneath him.

Gibbs held his breath for a few seconds. Not asleep, then. He stroked up Tony's arm with his palm until he reached his fingers, and interlaced them with the younger agent's. He felt him swallow.

'Mmh?'

'Did you mean what you told me?'

'… If you didn't believe me, I doubt you'd be lying naked in my bed…'

Tony shifted and Gibbs moved to let him face him, let him lay a hand on his cheek to stroke it, let him gaze intently into his eyes…

'You… want something? With me?'

'You know I do…'

'You know… I know I won't replace Shannon and Kelly… And I don't want to… I know your heart is big enough for you to feel something for me as well…'

Gibbs laid a hand on Tony's, took it, and pressed a kiss in his palm.

'I do love you, Tony. I don't want you to replace Shannon. You're different. You're Tony. And I do want you in my life. It's you I want. Every day. Not just at work… To watch you wake up… To watch you go to sleep… To keep you safe…'

'Mmh… I… I don't want to have to lie… about us… I don't want to hide…'

Even though he was naked in his bed – or perhaps because of that? – Tony was tense, and had tensed further at his own words. Gibbs knew even now, if he didn't utter the right answer, he could still lose Tony. But Tony was tensing even more and as he opened his mouth to speak, Gibbs silenced him.

'I don't want to hide either. We'll have to tone it down 'cause I can't promise you it won't get us into trouble, and I don't want to give any reason to The Bitch or other fucked up people out there to go after us just because I love you, plus I don't kiss and grope in public, but I swear I won't lie if it is being addressed, or even if our… work relationship will remain more 'formal' than anything, I won't stop looking or smiling at you. I _will_ swat your ass if I feel you deserve it. I could never deny that I'm head over heels in love with you…'

Tony looked into his eyes for a moment, and Gibbs wondered if he had made a mistake. It was all he could offer. Surely Tony knew that, didn't he?

'Then…'

Tony had spoken, flushing, apparently ill-at-ease.

'Then?' Gibbs asked.

'I… I'd like you to… err… make love to me…'

Resisting a sigh or relief, Gibbs' free hand roamed down Tony's body, eliciting a delicious tremor that had Tony's eyelids flutter. He smiled as he cupped one firm cheek.

'Usually you start by dating and kissing.'

Tony flushed bright red.

'We've kissed once, boss… And there'll be plenty of time for dating later.'

Gibbs chuckled.

'That was not a kiss… and I was just teasing… Tony…'

'Love you, boss…' murmured the younger man as Gibbs leaned towards him tentatively to capture his mouth.

A soft pressure of lips against lips. Nothing more. His thumb stroking a rough cheek. He pushed a little, and Tony was kissing back, softly, almost shyly, laying his large hands on his back, fingers gliding up and down the fabric of his shirt. They broke the kiss, but remained close. Gibbs looked down at Tony's eyes, which were observing his lips. He felt curious fingers trace them, softly, amorously, and he pushed a hand through Tony's hair. The younger man looked up, and Gibbs marvelled at the darkness of those eyes, as how deep they looked like up close, at how large his pupils were… From desire? For an old man like him?

He felt as if whatever God there was above had just remembered him. He pushed a hand through Tony's hair. It had been longer, once. Looked softer. Perhaps he could talk Tony into letting his hair grow a bit once more…

'Love you too…'

He tilted his head, and soon, Tony was growling into the kiss; three minutes into it, Gibbs found himself on top of his subordinate, between his legs, touching that delicious trembling body with his calloused fingers, kissing his open mouth, sucking at his tongue, pinching nipples, as Tony was fondling his arse, tugging at his shirt, undershirt, trying to touch the skin that he was denied. Gibbs broke the kiss, at last, enjoying how Tony followed his lips till it wasn't humanly possible for him to follow any longer, and moaned at the loss; one of his hands darted between his legs and squeezed his turgescent cock. Gibbs sat back a little to enjoy the view.

Tony's face was flushed, hair mussed, half-lidded eyes dark with desire… His chest rose and fell with each breath he took…

He was beautiful…

Gibbs got rid of his vest, shirt and undershirt, still straddling his soon-to-be lover, and Tony's hand left his gorgeous member to try and pry his belt open. The necessity to get up and out of his trousers left them both panting with need, and Gibbs was already half hard when he settled again between Tony's legs… He had never guessed he would fit so perfectly between his arms – but he did. Tony's hands were touching him again, feverishly, and they were groaning and moaning and kissing and rubbing against one another.

'Boss… Jethro… Please… I need… fuck me…'

Gibbs groaned again, and sat up, crawled towards his bedside table, trying very hard not to break skin contact, and fumbled through his drawers to retrieve a condom and the lubricant he used for masturbation.

'Have you already done this?' he asked Tony.

'No… I mean… yeah… I'm no virgin… but I've never… uh… You know...'

Tony was clearly embarrassed and Gibbs kissed him to reassure him. If anything, he was glad he was the one who would make love to Tony – really make love to him – the first time… It would almost have been funny – Tony, of all people, admitting there was something sexual he had not yet done – but he was far too enthused at the idea of making love to Tony at last that he really didn't care what people could think in this situation.

He was back between Tony's thighs – back where he belonged – and Tony was apparently trying to coax him to take him like that. He shushed him, stroking the sharp line of his jaw, thinking they could have had this for years if only they had been more courageous…

'Shh… I wanna do this right…'

Tony gave him a quizzical look, and when Gibbs' thumb stroked his bottom lip, he opened his mouth to suck it, and Gibbs had to close his eyes to remain in control of himself… He leant down to kiss him while his lubricant covered fingers snaked between their bodies to find Tony's hole, and pushed in slowly. Tony tensed, so Gibbs stopped.

'Alright?'

'No… Yeah… Don't stop… It's just… Feels strange… Cold…'

Gibbs smiled and kissed his cheek.

'Don't worry… It's gonna get warmer…'

And it did.

The ex-Marine took his time to prepare his younger lover, until Tony, who had been writhing on the bed for the last quarter of an hour, grabbed his dick suddenly, making him gasp, and said:

'Fuck me, already… I'm gonna go mad… I swear…'

And so, Gibbs did.

Tony was the kind of men who were always confident when it came to sex. Yet now, probably for the first time in his whole life, Gibbs could tell Tony was feeling completely at a loss. He clung to Gibbs' shoulders, his arms, clumsily, refused to let him turn him around because he was afraid if he broke eye-contact, he would wake up and Gibbs would be gone, or there would be one of his look-alikes in his stead – one with whom he would have been weak enough to go further than a quick blow job in dirty backrooms reeking of sweat and sex…

He was shivering all over, but not from the cold. His skin was on fire, his entire being was on fire, and even Gibbs' hot body seemed a lot cooler… His eyes kept darting from left to right, before they settled again on Gibbs as if his was thinking: _That's right. He's here with you. You're in his bed. He's fucking you – wait! He's making love to you. That's all you've ever wished for…_

But even though he kept thrusting into this delicious body, Gibbs kept whispering and shushing and stroking him like he would to reassure a frightened animal, and Tony was still shivering and clinging to his shoulders, but it was okay. It was a wonder Tony even managed to sustain an erection at all. But he did, and it felt _good_ and he kept babbling 'Gibbs… Gibbs… Gibbs…' and Gibbs shushed him with kisses, stroked his jaw, reminded him that he was there, with him, that he wouldn't go away…

Later, that night, with Tony pressed against his chest, and his own arm wrapped around him, holding him close, his finger stroking the soft hair on the young man's torso, Gibbs was thinking about their life together, until then, and how he had come to find a naked, a magnificent DiNozzo lying naked between his sheets.

'You know…', Gibbs said after a while.

Tony tilted his face towards him a bit.

'Mmh?' he asked sleepily.

'When you… opened that letter…'

'Oh please, no, next thing I know you'll be reminding me of 'Amanda Reed'…'

'No no just listen to me…'

Tony shifted against him, but not in an attempt to get away. He was trying to have a better view of Gibbs' face – which, in his position, and given that he wasn't willing to let go of the wonderful sensation of being in Gibbs' arms…

His boss gazed down at him, stroking his cheek with a calloused finger.

'When you opened that letter… I thought… Some part of me knew that a whacko had put something very nasty in there… and when I saw you there… For a minute… I thought you'd die… and I thought if you did… I'd go mad… I mean… I wasn't totally rational for the whole duration of the investigation… but if you had died…'

Tony smiled at him, shifting so that he was lying next to his boss. He took his hand and pressed a kiss on his palm, before pressing the hand over his heart.

'But I'm here, now. Aint't I?'

Gibbs stared at their intertwined hand on Tony's hand. And he thought it was beautiful. He didn't want Tony to know how weak he could be where he was concerned… But he kept on staring, in wonder, and Tony – his Tony – was smiling, and smoothing hair out of his forehead, stroking, loving…

He gazed up and his metallic grey-blue eyes met Tony's, and Tony was licking his lip out of reflex, and all he wanted was to kiss this mouth and ravage him and tell him how beautiful he was…

But Tony was talking again.

'B'sides… Better I than you…'

Gibbs frowned and opened his mouth to protest, but Tony shushed him, silenced him with a finger on his lips, so he kept quiet.

'If I had ordered you to live… D'ya think you'd have obeyed me?'

Tony's eyes were smiling sadly at him. He didn't know what to answer. Hell, he didn't know what to think. Would he have? Did he have the strength? The confidence?

'See?'

'I'd have tried.'

'Maybe. Or you'd have died right then and there just to piss me off.'

Gibbs chuckled and kissed his temple.

'I guess I deserved this one.'

'Mmmh… Thanks for being a lovable bastard…'

'I am, ain't I?'

''f course you are… But I love you all the same…'

There was a short pause, and then Tony was smiling at him, lowering his voice.

'You know, you're the first person ever to have had faith in me…'

'Surely there must be…'

'No. My mother died so long ago I can't remember if… she did, or thought like my father. He, incidentally, made it clear when I was a twelve year old boy that I was not his son anymore when I 

told him I wanted to be a cop… 'Playing cops and robbers is for children, Anthony', he'd say. 'You've gotta get a real job if you want to succeed in the world… You'll end up in the gutter, m'boy, you'll never do anything right, you'll never have enough money to be happy…''

'He told you that?'

'Yeah…'

'Well, maybe he forgot the cops guarding his house night and day because he's too chicken about robbers…'

Tony chuckled.

'But… You did a good job at Baltimore PD… Surely…'

'Remember how happy my boss was to get rid of me?'

'That's because your partner back then was an idiot.'

'Yeah. Still, I was supposed to work in a team… Never could do that. Not with them anyway. Perhaps I didn't trust them enough…'

'Well if I hadn't happened to come along, that day, you'd have had no one to cover your ass, because that scumbag of a partner of yours was fucking late. So as far as I'm concerned, you were right not to trust them…'

'As far as my boss was concerned, I should have anyway…'

Gibbs shrugged.

'Mmh glad he was so happy to hand you over to me, though…'

'Are you?'

Gibbs kissed his temple.

'Yeah. Of course, I am…'

'I am too… You know what?'

'What?'

'My father was wrong. I don't need money to be happy… I just need _you_…'

Gibbs gazed into Tony's eyes for a while, and his hand stopped stroking his arm.

'That was… Mmh…'

'Cheesy?'

'No! I mean, yeah, but…'

He grinned.

'You make me happy too…'

'That's what I'm here for, right?'

Gibbs smiled.

'Yeah. That's right.'

Tony craned his neck to kiss him, slowly, deeply, with more confidence than he had shown earlier, and Gibbs liked it just as much.

Tony ended up half-way on top of him, and Gibbs marvelled at the sensation of his very male body weighing down on him. It felt wonderful. And he could get his hand all over Tony's shapely arse and up his back with no difficulty whatsoever.

He felt wonderful.

Tony bit his chin lightly and, pushing on his hands to tower above Gibbs, he said cheekily:

'Next time, I'm on top.'

'You're gonna have to fight for this', Gibbs laughed.

'I sure will.'

'I'll be looking forward to it.'

'Yeah. And now, bed.'

He slumped to the side and Gibbs had to gather him back into his arms. There was no way he would let the scarred body of his lover out of his reach. Tony grinned at him.

'Good night, you sweet bastard.'

''Night, you dunderhead.'

'You know, you're the only one who can make me horny just by insulting me.'

'Well then, I'm glad you're not seventeen anymore, 'cause I can't get it up just yet…'

Tony laughed.

'I never thought I'd admit that to anybody, but neither do I…'

Gibbs shook his head.

'Sleep, DiNozzo. We have work to do in the morning.'

''Night, Boss.'


End file.
